


True to Me

by strikeyourcolors



Series: Always Been [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Break Up, Childbirth, Discussion of Abortion, Established Relationship, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Intersex Omegas, M/M, Medical Procedures, Mpreg, Omega Verse, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:12:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 93,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9283895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikeyourcolors/pseuds/strikeyourcolors
Summary: Tim Drake's life is a raging garbage fire. After a few bad nights, the universe forgets this fact and drops something else unexpected in his path.  Obviously he can't catch a break. Decisions need to be made and he's definitely going to need some help, especially with his fledgling relationship. Things are not about to be perfect, but he can't face them running away.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My best friend is having a baby. Sitting there at one of the appointments watching every horrifying thing that can be done to a human body be done to a human body, this fic idea spawned. Of course it needed dressing up, but once I started I found I couldn't stop. I know the trope is overused but it's always been one of my favorites and I'm glad I finally got the inspiration to write it out. 
> 
> Tags will be updated with chapters. Think of this story as a romantic comedy with a dash of medical drama and regular drama thrown in but hopefully it doesn't get too melodramatic. Thanks for reading!

Tim needs space. That's all he tells them, all he really has to tell them. It had started, as most emotional breakdowns within their family did, with an argument with Bruce. Bruce meant well, he really did and Tim knew it, but he hadn't wanted to hear what the man had to say. 

Tim has no life. Tim needs a life outside his work. Bruce isn't the best at leading by example and he seems to realize that. But instead of doing it, of course he turns to lectures. They hadn't come to blows, or even to raised voices, but it had led to him wanting to prove Bruce wrong. 

He had enjoyed it at first. A young, unbound, wealthy omega on his own. His apartment became his permanent residence. He patrolled, but he was rarely in contact with his family. 

Eventually the casual flirting at turned into more legitimate flirting with an alpha. Lucas Powers, who had a brilliant mind for business that Tim felt was entirely untapped as he worked his way through streamlining nonprofit organizations. He had never actually seen it going anywhere. Of course that would be a foolish daydream to have, given his line of work. But it had been a nice dalliance, a nice detour to experience Tim Drake instead of Red Robin. 

He'd found himself riveted on Lucas's company. Lucas who valued him as a person and never once belittled him for being an omega. Lucas who he actually enjoyed talking to and debating with and who wasn't even sort of related to him. Lucas with brown eyes and golden hair who could chase out images of blue and black. With a powerful build and a confidence from being comfortable as an alpha. Not a stronger build with something to prove from being an omega.

Lucas Powers who was fucking married. Lucas who had fucked Tim on the bed he shared with his wife when she came to visit him in San Francisco. Lucas who made Timothy Drake a fool, for once, because never once had he considered that Lucas was the romanized form of Lisandro Powers and so that marriage certificate with the ink proverbially still drying really had been his. 

Lucas Lisandro Powers who had left Tim's presence with a broken jaw that might have only been bruised except he'd told Tim to stop acting like a little bitch. Lucas who had threatened to leak compromising pictures of Tim to the media if he told his wife and who had woken up to his entire computer system completely destroyed. Lucas who definitely needed to be a country away from Gotham. Maybe a universe. 

It's easier to just say he was dumped, when asked. No one pursues it further than that, because they had been the ones pushing. They had been the ones insisting he needed a life outside Red Robin. He still feels a healthy dose of shame from how stupid he had been, from thinking anyone might like Tim Drake for himself. 

One night one of Lucas's friends calls. Tim frowns a little at the alpha woman's voice on the phone, but she's been working with Lucas on a particular charity project that needs to be finished. Tim has the information on a flash drive and he can't punish the charity for the actions of someone they hired. He agrees to meet her in a posh, upscale hotel bar.

He only has two drinks but he's feeling a little sick. In a good, floating kind of way that he recognizes from being drunk. There's a burn in his belly that he vaguely recognizes as wrong. Wrong timing. Wrong with the dose of birth control he's currently taking to prevent any kind of heat because he's not willing to share that with an alpha just yet. He pushes it back. 

“I really appreciate this, Tim,” The woman, Angela, tells him. “I don't know what happened between you and Lucas but he really liked you. He's really sorry.” 

_Sure_ , Tim thinks. _He's really sorry I knocked his teeth out_ but he just tries to smile and not notice the intense way Angela is staring at him. “These things don't work out sometimes,” He says easily even though he doesn't want to downplay this at all. It's easier if he does.

“They don't,” She agrees. “I know it gets particularly sticky when irrational omega emotions get involved. Everything gets blown out of proportion.” She smiles. Tim bristles, gritting his teeth against the wave of dizziness and rage sweeping over him.

He hasn't wanted to mention the details. No doubt Angela knows Lucas is married. No doubt she knew all along. He's not sure he would win her to his side, even if he told her about Lucas threatening him or calling him names. “I need to go,” He snaps, standing up with a surprising steadiness. He's driven to a hotel room while bleeding out. Whatever this feeling coursing through him is, it's nothing. Angela looks a little surprised. 

He staggers out of the hotel, recognizing the feeling for what it is. Out of cycle. Out of season. Maybe just a lift in hormones and not a true heat, but something he needs to get taken care of.

There's one person he goes to for help with heats. One person who understands it. Who gets what it is to have been a Robin and to be a supposedly weaker sex. One person who might judge him in every other aspect of his life but at least doesn't judge him for his biology. 

He just has to find him. Tonight he needs the company. 

~*~*~

"Stop me if you heard this one," Jason says as he corners his contact in an alley outside a bar. "A guy promises he'll meet you in the park at midnight and never shows. Is his info bad or is his watch broken? Or is he just really fucking stupid?"

His gun is out and aimed at the guy's head. If anyone bats an eyelash at the display it's because of the helmet on his head, not because of the gun or the threat of violence. This neighborhood sees enough to know not to get involved. 

Well, most of the neighborhood does. Jason is so caught up in scaring the shit out of his prey for the information that he gets over-confident. 

Plus, Replacement has always had stalker-like levels of stealth. 

He grunts as the kid (is he really a kid?) slams into his side. It's enough weight to stagger him but not drag him down. Poorly aimed, poorly timed, and he flips Tim over his shoulder to land in a pile of garbage that has rats skittering through the alley. 

"Don't shoot 'im, Hood! Not supposed to shoot," Tim slurs and Jason is staring incredulously at him before his would-be informant bolts for it. 

Jason thinks he doesn't have the information, but he almost follows. "I know where you live!" He calls out after him and the guy runs even faster. Which leaves Jason in an alley, surrounded by rats, staring at what he assumes is a very drunk Tim Drake-Wayne who is currently covered in garbage. 

He's not sure he's seen Tim in better circumstances, actually. They might get along well enough now. They might fuck through Tim's occasional heats, but he'll never really resist that childish part of him that wants to lord superiority over him. Not only had Bruce replaced him, he'd replaced him with another omega. "Jesus fuck, Replacement," He tells him as he tucks the weapon back into its holster. "What even is this? Stake out gone wrong? Bad date? Escaping Daddy for a night?"

Tim looks at him with wide blue eyes. They look overly bright and a little wet and Jason is stunned into absolute silence. The kid hadn't even cried when he nearly gutted him and left him for dead. Usually when Tim contacts him for their illicit little fuck-buddy arrangement, he's calm. He lays out exactly what he wants. He doesn't go stumbling to Jason with nothing in mind. 

"My life is fucked up,” Tim says simply and Jason can't argue with that because all their lives are entirely fucked up. “I don't want to find someone to love me or anything stupid but it would be nice if people didn't constantly want to fuck me over as Timothy Drake.”

"Shit," Jason swears again and sighs. He grabs Tim's arm to pull him out of the pit of booze-soaked cardboard boxes and half-rotted bar food. Tim is rallying, but his breathing is a little off. His pupils are dilated. Something is wrong with him, that much is obvious. It's not really like Tim to get this hammered and roam the streets. "Come on. Let's get you home. Do you want to call for a pick up?"

Jason is reaching for Tim's phone and Tim slaps his hand away from his pocket with a belligerent "No!" that makes him sound about five. "No jus'...my place isn't far." He points. He's pointing at a weather vane. Jason tries to get the phone again and Tim writhes. "Don't tell them. They have...their own shit to worry about." 

Apparently not shit like whatever the hell is going on in their babybird's personal life. Or at least not his emotional response to it. Jason thinks of how he can call someone outside the family but, really, it will be easier to coax the apartment location from Tim than a number of someone who can safely care for him. "I'll take you to your place, then," Jason says because he can't just leave him here. He'd probably get home eventually but Jason doesn't like the idea that he's been drugged or that there's something else lingering behind whatever made Tim seek him out tonight. 

They don't do spontaneity. Tim calls him or leaves a message with a time and a place. Sometimes Jason shows. Sometimes he doesn't. Jason never asks a return on the favor from Tim because as far as he's concerned he can drug himself barren before he'll be at the mercy of biology. 

"Northwest," Tim orders and tips his head back, nearly falling over for the effort. "Which way is North?"

Jason wraps an arm around his waist and reaches for a grappling gun. "We'll figure it out. Come on."

~*~*~

He knows the way to Tim's apartment, but it takes easily four times as long to get him back to his apartment as it should have. Jason takes his keys and unlocks the apartment door for him, surprised there's no security at all on the place. 

He intends to sling Tim into his living room and leave but when he tries it, Tim mewls miserably and starts retching. Jason barely gets a potted plant (dead. No actual plant in the pot) under his face before he vomits. With a sigh, Jason curses omega instinct and whatever this bizarre need to protect is. People say alphas are protective shits, but it's omegas who rip apart anyone fucking with their pack. Tim, reluctantly, has been considered pack by Jason's nose at the very least. He can't let Bruce dick this kid around, withholding affection and training like he'd done to punish Jason.

"I'm getting you some water and putting you to bed," He tells Tim as he steps inside and locks the door behind him. "Maybe I'll get a little blood to run a tox screen but I think you're just three sheets to the wind. Do you feel drunk or something worse?"

He finds the kitchen. It doesn't look used except for the coffee maker on the counter. Jason locates a bottle of water and glances over at Tim, who has at least rolled over onto his side and is groaning. His eyes are shut. “Didn't even drink much. Two drinks? Must've been some heavy shit.” Instantly Jason knows he will be taking that blood sample. Tim is writhing, arching his hips up, and Jason has definitely seen that gesture before. 

He sighs and takes his helmet off, putting it on the kitchen counter. He strips off his jacket as well because, even with as small as Tim is, hauling him around easily gets Jason overheated. "I'd say you'll feel better in the morning but you'll feel like shit. The water will help but..."

He stops in mid-twist as he tries to get the cap off the bottle of water. He smells it, then. Red Hood's helmet filters out a lot of scent. It's a bonus in the field. Filtered air, free of toxins and distraction. He can deal with people as people and not by whatever sex they've been assigned. 

But he hadn't considered this. Beneath the smell of vomit and the staleness of the apartment is Tim. Tim's scent is everywhere, obviously, since this is where he lives. But the current Tim smells...off. 

Sickness? Injury? Is Jason actually smelling his grief? He approaches, getting a hand on Tim's back to get him to sit up and encouraging tiny sips of water as Tim protests that he's fine.

He's not fine. He's flushed and sweating. Squirming a little and looking like he might sob. His fingers close around the plastic of the bottle and he drinks more steadily as Jason tries to place what's going on. 

 _Heat_.

It's belated. It smells weird. Wrong. His body is trying to convince him that it smells right and good and that he definitely needs to help Tim out with this. His dick twitches a little in his pants at the idea. "You're in heat, you idiot," Jason all but snarls. 

Heat is bad. Heat is dangerous. Jason is a fucking drugged omega and he responds to Tim's scent in all kinds of uncomfortable ways. Heat requires safety and protection and rest. Extra nourishment. All the things Tim definitely isn't getting. 

Tim blinks owlishly at him. His pink tongue flicks out to wet even pinker lips. "I'm not," He protests after consideration. "On suppressors. Not due to stop for two weeks."

And of course Tim would say that sounding totally sober. Bruce didn't fool around when he took an omega as a Robin, did he? How awkward were those conversations? How intense was Tim's training about what pills to take and when? About when to time his heats? Jason knows that Tim has a heat down to a science. Enough that Jason himself had been disgusted when he realized how easily Tim embraced it.

With Jason it had been a war, but fortunately a very short one. He had presented late and drugged himself not long after, then died not long after that.

"Something is wrong with you," Jason insists. "Come on. I'll throw you in bed and call Dickwing or someone to check on you in the morning." 

"Dickwing?" Tim repeats and smirks. Jason likes the smirk. He doesn't like the fact he basically has to dead lift Tim and carry him bridal style into his bedroom. 

He tosses him onto his nicely made bed with little ceremony and reaches down to untie Tim's shoes. There's something...familiar in all of this. In a sick omega in need of care. In Jason being the one to provide it and not judge and not tell anyone. Of course, then there had been no one to tell who would help. Now he kind of likes keeping this secret even if it is at Tim's request. 

He gets Tim down to his boxers and shirt with a little wrangling and leaves him on the bed. "Sweet dreams, Replacement."

Jason is not even to the door before Tim is up. Wobbling toward him on coltish legs. "No. Stay." 

He frowns. His body agrees he should stay. Should see the omega through whatever weird, sick, not-heat this is. But Tim is drunk and sick and maybe drugged and sad. Jason doesn't want to deal with that baggage. Jason hasn't been _invited_ to deal with that baggage. They have an arrangement about Jason sometimes lending Tim a literal hand during his heats, but only if Tim's requested it before the thing starts.

Tim thinks otherwise, latching onto him. He lifts his face and Jason is startled to realize he's _kissing_ him. On his chin, moving over his jaw, clumsy and sloppy and Jason jerks away hard enough that Tim loses his balance. 

"Hey," He says, protests, then tries to soften his tone. "You're drunk, Tim. You need to sleep this off. Let go."  Beyond that, Jason has people to track down and fucking murder just in case they did drug Tim. Certainly someone's ill-used him recently.

Tim climbs him like he wants to meld into one being with Jason. It's a very Dick-like move, actually. He bites at his neck and whines and tries to cram his hands up Jason's shirt which doesn't work very well since there's a layer of body armor there. Jason is startled. A little flattered, maybe, since Tim's unconscious, primal brain seems to think of him as a source of safety. "Tim!"

That stirs him. Tim stops. Looks at him steadily and his eyes are only a little blurry. It's his name that does it, Jason thinks. No nicknames, cruel or otherwise. "You're drunk," Jason repeats. "Maybe drugged. Maybe in heat. You don't know what you want." 

Tim snorts. "Why does everyone say that? I'm not...I'm a little buzzed but I know what I want. I'm consensual. I'm an adult."  He pauses. “I'm not a stupid little bitch.”

He almost does a passable impression of sober, even if the last words are full of such bitterness that Jason knows there's a story behind them. Jason puts a finger in front of his eyes and flicks it back and forth. Tim's gaze follows it. "Even adults make stupid choices," Jason tells him and doesn't even bother asking about his last statement. "Go to bed, babybird."

Tim surges forward. His lips crash against Jason's and it leaves his mouth bloody where his lip gets smashed into a tooth. But Tim doesn't care, pressing against him and ew he hasn't brushed his teeth since he puked, has he? Gross.

"My name is Timothy Jackson Drake. My birthday is July 19th.  I have a director's board meeting at 8AM on Tuesday and a lunch meeting with Makoto Aihara on..." Jason presses a finger to his lips. Tim scowls. 

"I don't want that information, Timmers. I'm not checking to see if you're mentally intact after you woke up from a coma." Jason wishes it were that simple. He also wishes he hadn't noticed Tim dropped 'Wayne' from his name. 

Tim sighs. "I'm as sober as I want to be. Nothing's wrong..." He shifts. Rubs his thighs together and frowns a little. A heat, Jason said? But he's been remembering his pills and patches. It doesn't feel like that. He needs and he wants but it's skin he wants. Needs to feel. Not that. Not a knot. Not like with Lucas. Jackass. 

"Stay," He says softly. "Just...stay. I don't want to be by myself and anyone I can call is too far away." Like dead far away. And he can't risk anyone at the manor finding out. Damian has enough to use against him. 

Jason stares at him and sighs. Wonders when he started getting roped into those things. He knew Roy and Kory were going to be a weakness to him and that his casual relationship with Tim couldn't stay that way forever. He'd still gone for it.

"I'll stay," Jason agrees. "But we're not going to fuck. Understand?"

Tim nods. Jason grips his chin to turn his face back to him. "Say it. Repeat it." 

Tim glares at him. "You'll stay," He repeats. "But we're not going to fuck." There's a blush on his cheeks. Jason thinks it might be because his skin is overly warm. "Can we just make out? I just...I need someone to touch."

And Jason, God help him, gets that too. Understands the need to be grounded when your world is spinning out of control. He knows how crazy he was and how Talia's simple touches had started bringing him back around. He knows how calm he feels pressed against Kory's chest or leaning against Roy. They don't fuck, either. But just touching, messing around...it helps. 

"Let's see where the night goes and how sober you get," Jason agrees but it's reluctant. It's not a no, so Tim is pleased enough to let him take him back to bed and drop him down again. "Go to sleep, Tim."

If he'd known the key to making him do what he said was using his real name, Jason would have started a long time ago. Tim settles down with his body wrapped around Jason's arm like a baby monkey on a tree branch. Jason groans and settles in. It will be a long night. 

~*~*~

Morning comes too soon and in pieces, to Tim. There's a horrible taste in his mouth. Like he's had cotton balls in it all night. He aches all over. His head throbs. His...

His boxers are wet. And on backwards. His shirt is completely gone. Tim reaches down and realizes he's a little sore and a little tender but he'd always been careful to...

Careful when he was with Lucas. It's been days since he slept with Lucas and certainly it's not something that is ever going to happen again. That's the next piece to fall into place and suddenly Tim doesn't want to open his eyes. He wants to deny the reality of the situation.

His phone is on the bedside table, chirping at him. Tim reaches automatically, scowls at the clock to realize it's 5:30. It's a time without significance; he wakes up later for Tim Drake and he's awake later for Red Robin. 

He squints at the text messages and there have been quite a few. But the most recent one is from a number he doesn't recognize right off.

**I locked you in your apartment. You kept trying to escape.**

Tim frowns. Why was he trying to escape? How did he get back in bed? And who was texting him?

**/Waffles are in the fridge. Definitely a heat. Get your shit together./**

A heat? 

It all comes crashing down when Tim rolls to a sitting position. He's alone in the apartment. He remembers the fight on the phone with Lucas and the meeting with his agent and the...garbage? 

He remembers Jason. Jason taking him home. Jason petting his hair when he retched or flailed or showed any sign of discontent. Jason...how much has he told Jason?

His fingers move between his legs again. He's wet, the skin is swollen and tender but no more than it normally is at the end or beginning stages of a heat. No damage that he can feel. 

 _We're not going to fuck_. He had repeated it obediently and they'd held to it, hadn't they?

His life is a train wreck. The train has left the tracks and is on fire with fuel spilling out around him. He groans and tries to drag himself to the bathroom. Shower first. If that goes well then waffles. 

He does pause to text the number back. 

**/Thnx. /**

Then before he loses his nerve. 

**/Sorry. You're a good guy./**

He throws his phone back on the bed and gets to the shower before Jason can reply. He never does. Tim eats the waffles cold and hopes they'll make him feel at least moderately more human because he has a meeting with Bruce in a few hours.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim has suspicions. Tim finds a place to get these suspicions confirmed. Tim engages in some swear-therapy and road-side vomiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This feels like a short chapter but this will be about average chapter length for this story! Brief discussions of abortion but no other major warnings apply to this chapter and tags haven't changed. Thanks to everyone who left a review last chapter and keep them coming!

It's been two weeks. Actually more like seventeen days. Life has continued on. If Tim's been any more distant than usual he's only gotten a few passing comments. Mentions that men are jerks or alphas are jerks and he's better off looking for someone else. Dick stopped by to lure him out with ice cream and a reassurance that Tim is worth loving. A new ice cream place had opened with odd flavors like Earl Grey and Lime Salt and Tim obediently lets Dick put tiny spoons of samples into his mouth.

Dick makes exaggerated faces and comments. He's trying, Tim knows, but he can only crack the barest of smiles. He remembers the danger of letting someone in now; it hurts when they're no longer there. He would have thought he learned after Steph. 

Tim thinks he's doing well enough, though. He goes off his suppressant pills at the appointed time, an entire three days of vacation scheduled both from patrolling and from Wayne Enterprises. Usually he's in for a day of intense neediness, flanked on either side by a day of mild cramping while he plays video games and takes naps. It's not all together bad.

His heats have always been mild. Three months on suppressors, a week off. Sometimes he stretches it to four months if he's busy. He once stretched it to five without any effects that were too horrible but the one time he had made it to six the heat had come on with such a vengeance that it had urged him to make arrangements for his next heat. With Jason. 

Jason was safe. Another omega, who understood what it was to live in a house of alphas even if he didn't want to admit it. Jason who had a wicked tongue and clever fingers and who was broad as any alpha but still smelled safe no matter what. He's even planning to call him this time, despite the awkwardness of before.

Except Tim's planned heat never comes. By the second day with an absent heat,Tim is researching. He finds something about stress making heats not arrive on time but his heats are induced by the sudden lack of drugs in his system. Stress can't truly affect the drop of hormones he causes when he simply stops taking the pills.

He also finds information about going into a surprise heat after a sudden emotional upset. Mates cheating and the omega partner instantly going into a heat. Nature's way of protecting the omega, of letting them find a new romantic partner.

Lucas certainly wasn't his mate and Tim thinks that's entirely too stupid to contemplate. He purposefully does not research any drugs that induce heat. It's not just because he knows about them already. He's practicing a purposeful ignorance. 

When he shows up on patrol the second night with no heat, Bruce clearly disapproves. Tim's never quite sure how he's felt about Bruce knowing his cycles but he supposes that's a pitfall of the job. Bruce charts everything, accounts for everything, and his scheduled absences are just one of those things. Bruce raised an alpha and an omega who had been only too happy to never have heats and never admit to anyone what he was. Tim was a surprise. Tim was an adjustment.

But Batman doesn't ask. Not in words. Red Robin can shrug to him with a casual "Didn't happen." And it won't be brought up again until he sees Bruce Wayne face to face and Bruce can ask him about suppressants or what he has in the works that is so important he can't pause for a heat this time. "What do we have tonight?"

As it turns out, patrol is the most helpful thing he can do. Saving people and busting up crime rings. Working himself to the point he falls into an exhausted sleep only to wake up and go to work at Wayne Enterprises the next day. 

He stays off the suppressants and it's only the second week without a heat or any indication of one that he starts to worry. Keeping in fighting shape means eating right, sleeping, staying hydrated, and having a sound body. He's not doing most of those things. The last might be what finally breaks him into further looking into his condition. Being Red Robin is all he has, sometimes. He has to be certain this isn't something that could affect him in the field.

He draws more blood, reminding himself the first sample two weeks ago hadn't shown anything suspicious. It's probably stress. It's probably exhaustion. It would be evolutionary suicide for him to go into a heat when his body was barely functioning as it was. He needs to eat more. He needs to find his center.

Tim doesn't risk the batcave and that computer, no matter how much better it would be. He can't risk Bruce benching him or Damian finding the results to use against him. His home kits are good enough to identify mostly anything wrong. 

No toxins or poisons are identified, and that's good. He checks hormone levels to see if the suppressors have simply built up in his blood stream. It's possible there's a certain level he's reached in fat tissues or organs that is preventing his heat. 

The hormone level is high. Higher than it should be even on the full dose of suppressants. Tim frowns, cross referencing what that could be. Long-term suppressant use can cause toxicity. The doses and types need to be changed every few years but he's well within the range of safety of his current cocktail.

There are tumors that affect the hormone range. Adrenal and reproductive. Symptomless until something is caught in routine blood work like this. 

Or he could be pregnant. 

Tim almost laughs at that but glances at the readings. It would be accurate for a pregnancy between four and five weeks old. 

...for the night he broke Lucas's jaw after finding his wife's bra in bed with them.

...for that night he spent with Jason where he wasn't entirely sure what happened. 

...there was no way. 

He can't think. He can't plan. Not without all the facts. He needs a legitimate doctor more experienced in this. He needs somewhere his face won't be recognized. He has the fake identification and the cash but bribing an entire clinic of people to keep quiet if they do identify him will be nearly impossible.

He falls into his research. Research he can do. He needs somewhere discreet. Somewhere reputable enough that he will trust their care, but off the radar enough that he'll be another face in a sea of patients. 

He has to know.

~*~*~

Tim finds a place in a small town outside Gotham. Small in comparison to Gotham, but not so small that anyone would be overly curious about a stranger showing up at a clinic. It was one that specialized in omega care. It would be normal that they hadn't seen him before and wouldn't have expected him to already have a relationship with a physician. 

He had to wait until he had an afternoon off. Torture. Waiting, not knowing. Timing it so he wouldn't be missed because lately something he had been doing had been pinging Bruce's radar. Alfred has invited him for dinner at least four times this week. He'd considered home tests but, ultimately, Tim knows what the result will be and knows he won't trust it.

The clinic is clean. The paint is chipping in a few places and the magazines in the waiting room aren't the newest, but Tim doesn't mind that so much. Most of the patients leave at ease, and seem happy with their care. The environment itself is very warm, while still being professional enough to soothe him.

"Kyle Plum?" The medical assistant calls. Tim winces a little but it had been the first alias to come to mind that who was both an omega and already had completed paperwork. No one in the family knew the name, either, which could only be a bonus.

He follows the young woman, familiar at least with the beginning of the appointment. She chats with him about nothing in particular as she takes his height and weight. She sticks a thermometer under his tongue and measures his blood pressure. His pulse makes her pause since he's well aware of how fast it is, but she only pats his leg sympathetically and Tim thinks this kind of panic must be common here.

She's comforting, at least. Probably in her thirties with highlighted blonde hair pulled back into a low, sensible ponytail. Her name tag says 'Carla'. "Mr. Plum, I'm sure you're nervous but the doctor won't even see you unless we can get your heart rate down."

She holds his hand, his finger in the plastic grip of the pulse monitor as he tries to breathe evently. To meditate. To think about nothing. Deep breaths in, holding for three seconds, and releasing them. He's been trained to slow his heart rate to near death. Surely he can get it down to something reasonable for a doctor's appointment. Eventually, Carla is satisfied. “Can I call you Kyle?”

It takes Tim a moment to realize that it requires a nod of confirmation. Carla smiles. “What brings you here today, Kyle?”

Tim tries to act normal. He can't afford to raise too many red flags, can he? But what is normal in the situation? "I think...something might be wrong. My hormone level was elevated and I haven't had a heat when I was supposed to." 

Carla smiles and nods. No doubt she sees this all the time, Tim thinks. This is normal to her. She doesn't know his life is imploding around him. He gives her information about the pills he's been taking. About the sudden changes in his life though he hesitates over the word 'boyfriend' and he feels like his voice catches on the phrase 'broke up suddenly' though it's so he doesn't say 'turned out to be a jackass'. She doesn't ask about how he knows about his hormone levels.

She is sympathetic and chatty and reassuring. Tim hates that she thinks his name is Kyle and that he's lying to her. She instructs him to pee in a cup and she draws blood with a practiced ease. Tim is going to have to destroy all that evidence later. Then she tells him the doctor will be in shortly to see him. 

The doctor, it turns out, is another male omega. He's in his fifties, short and plump and amazingly cheerful. His hair is curly and tight around his head and he looks like the baby angels in the photos that had lined the hallways. The thought is disturbing. 

"How are we doing today?" He asks happily, sitting down on the stool and wheeling himself closer to where Tim sits, perched precariously on the edge of the exam table with paper crinkling under his thighs. Carla hadn't suggested he disrobe, so he hasn't.

Tim twitches and hopes he's smiling. It's the fake smile that he wears at gala events. The one that makes his cheeks hurt. Maybe it's a little bit too much because the doctor looks a little hesitant. "I'm fine," He says. "Just fine." Though really why would anyone be in a doctor's office unless something might be wrong?

"I hope so," The doctor agrees. "I'm Dr. Grace. I noticed we haven't seen you before. Are you allergic to anything?"

They are questions Tim has answered before. He tries not to scream. Tries not to snatch the chart out of Dr. Grace's hands because he really does like the guy and probably acting on those impulses would be grounds for throwing Tim out of the clinic and then he'd have to go through the process again. "The urinalysis showed the elevated hormones you'd mentioned and the blood test confirmed. You're pregnant. Probably around seven weeks." 

Somewhere inside him, Tim had known, but world comes crashing down anyway. Tim stares at at the doctor, struck mute, feeling panic rise to claw up in his chest. This is not what he wants. Not at all. That fact is probably written all over his face because Dr. Grace stops smiling. 

"I was on birth control," Tim says and feels like an idiot. A dumb kid. But he'd definitely taken his pills on time. He'd had a patch back up. This shouldn't have happened. "I was careful. It was only a few times." Sex, he means. Sex with Lucas. 

Dr. Grace nods. His face is like Carla's. Sympathetic, not pitying. He's heard this a hundred times before, no doubt. Tim knows there are failure rates on birth control. He might later take some twisted comfort in the fact he's not alone in an accidental pregnancy. "These things happen. They can happen to anyone." 

Anyone. Even vigilantes tutored under Batman. 

"It couldn't be a tumor?" Tim asks and he's not sure if he's verifying or if he's kind of hopeful. 

Dr. Grace shakes his head. He doesn't even look appalled that Tim suggests such a thing. "It could be, I suppose, but you don't look for zebras when you have a horse right in front of you. The amount of hormone doubles every few days if you are pregnant. You could come back for another test to confirm but..." 

"It's a horse," Tim says miserably. 

The doctor nods. "It's a horse." 

Or a baby. Tim would prefer the zebra so much right now that he's willing to buy a zoo. He starts to stand up. He starts to plaster that fake smile back on his face. "Thanks. I-"

Dr. Grace interrupts him with a gentle brush to his pant leg. Tim sits back down. "I'm going to prescribe some prenatal vitamins. Take them, or don't. If you want some information on your options...?" He trails off. Tim startles a little bit. 

"Do you do abortions here?"

If anything, the doctor seems to calm. He doesn't have to dance around the subject. "Not here but I have a clinic on Saturday mornings. I rotate with other physicians. Of course I can also provide you with information about financial help that would allow you to continue the pregnancy to term. Either to parent or to place the child for adoption." 

He thinks of Stephanie, then. With fondness, with sadness. He thinks of her pregnancy and how precarious her position had been. He thinks of the baby girl he held in his arms for a moment before she'd been taken away. He never saw her again, never heard anything about her, but he thinks about her sometimes enough to hope she's safe and happy.

"I'll take the information," Tim agrees though of course it's not the financial aspect of all this that worries him. "On...on all of it. How soon do I have to call?"

Dr. Grace stands and starts gathering booklets from the cabinet. It occurs to Tim that the doctor hasn't touched him at all. He doesn't really mind it. There would have been nothing to learn from a physical exam, anyway, and he's already on edge. Touch is the last thing he wants. He stands up, glad his knees decide not to buckle. 

"The earlier the better with terminations. There are fewer complications," Dr. Grace tells him. "But take your time to make the choice that is best for you. A reasonable deadline for a decision would be near week fourteen, which is the end of the first trimester. If you choose to continue the pregnancy, you'll want to make your first prenatal appointment around that time as well.”

Tim nods. His head is spinning and he clutches the pamphlets and leaflets like a lifeline. "Thank you." 

They shake hands. Dr. Grace seems a little surprised by how quickly Tim pulls himself together and Tim wonders how many omegas he sees in situations like this and what choices they make. He wishes he could ask. 

“Kyle,” Dr. Grace says, gently enough that Tim isn't sure if he's grateful or furious. “I see a lot of omegas in situations similar to yours. I'm going to give you all the information I can, but it's your choice alone to make. Don't let anyone else make it for you.”

Tim nods. He collects the information Dr. Grace offers him and wishes the drive back to Gotham didn't give him so much time to think.

His instant feeling is for termination. A child doesn't fit into his plans now and maybe never will. A pregnancy doesn't fit into his lifestyle. He couldn't provide the best care of even a fetus at this point. He could have an abortion done quietly and no one would find out.

But what was there to find out? That Tim, as an adult, had sex with another adult? While using birth control responsibly? That he'd fallen into the less than one percent failure rate? There was nothing to be ashamed of, logically. Still, shame burned hot in him and he thought of Jason, irrationally, and how Jason seemed to feel embarrassed about every facet of his own omega biology. 

Around seven weeks, the blood test said. Enough time to be Lucas. Enough time to be Jason. If he and Jason had even slept together. A heat was a more likely time to conceive, even a medicated heat. He'd been with both of them probably within forty-eight hours.

But Jason wouldn't do that. He remembered, sometimes, throwing himself at Jason that particular night. And each time Jason had peeled him off and sworn at him and tried to put him back to bed. 

Tim remembers the slick on his thighs and the tackiness inside him. The way he ached. But there hadn't been damage and he hadn't been covered in even the lightest bite marks like he usually was when he spent a night with Jason during a heat.

He groans, wanting to bang his head against the steering wheel but on the freeway that's probably not the smartest idea. At least he's sane enough to realize that.

Tim isn't sentimental. He isn't religious. But somewhere it resonates in him that this is the only time this creature can exist. Right now it's a clump of cells. Something that might be washed away with another drop in his hormones. Something without a personality or a sex or conscious thought but something with such potential.

Tim doesn't care about his own legacy being carried on, even if he sometimes thinks of it. Hasn't Bruce shown him that there can be a better way out of bad circumstances? That even the worst situations can cause something amazing? Bruce has more than his fair share of children, even if only one is biological. Objectively, Tim would say Damian shouldn't have existed either and yet he wouldn't trade him away. At least, not in the past couple of years.

Aren't they all the better for Damian existing? He wonders if this want to grow a life inside him and create something good is a baser omega instinct designed to continue the species. He's always half-begging to be bred during a heat, after all. The thought disgusts him a little bit.

And if this baby is Lucas's, can he deal with that? With the idea it might one day be half siblings with children from a wife Tim didn't know existed? What can he tell the child about why he's no longer with his or her father? That he was young and stupid and attempted to blackmail him?

Tim feels nauseated again suddenly, wheeling over to the emergency lane and barely getting the lid off a long abandoned cup of coffee before he throws up into the container. He's been doing that a lot lately. It was finally making sense. 

"Fuck," He whispers. "Fuck." There's no one around to hear and the swears are spoken so rarely it's almost cathartic. There's no one to really call. No one he wants to burden with this information and no one he really thinks can help him through his decision making process. 

He texts Jason again. 

**/Did we have sex?/**

He doesn't really expect an answer. Optimistically, it was a burner phone Jason texted him from or even a stranger's. Who knows who reads the texts now?

He pulls back onto the road and drives to his apartment. He flops, face down, on the couch and doesn't move until it's time for patrol.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations galore. Tim finds out what happened that night. Jason finds out Tim is pregnant. Dick finds out that Tim does not cope well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My bff is two weeks away from the due date. She asks if I have any requests for when she goes into labor because she's considerate like that. Instantly "Could you maybe not make it a night I upload things?" I probably deserved the smack I received. 
> 
> But I'm so glad for your comments and I love that some of you are so invested in how things turn out! Thanks so much for reading and your reviews.
> 
> There is a prequel one-shot coming that will be posted before this story is finished. Warnings in this chapter for more mentions of abortion and mentions of sexual happenings while under the influence.

He has three to five weeks to decide. Ideally a medical abortion should be done before ten weeks. Sometimes it can be done before twelve. After that it's not impossible to obtain a termination, of course, but it becomes more difficult. There's a slightly higher risk of complications. He'll have more down time. He'll have to explain a longer absence than a doctor's appointment, swallowing pills, and pretending he had a sudden and unexpected heat. 

For now he throws himself, hard, into normalcy. He attends business meetings and appointments. He throws himself into his work. He goes to the manor for dinner and when Alfred looks at him he nearly has a panic attack that somehow the old butler knows because Alfred knows everything. 

Prior to arriving in a house full of detectives was some frantic googling about how long it takes before people can smell that you're pregnant. Twenty weeks for someone experienced enough to know the scent. Tim has no doubt Bruce knows it. He'd also called the clinic back and asked about paternity testing in utero. He'd nearly been dizzied by the statistics on miscarriage in relation to the options and how difficult it was to even find someone willing to do the test without a court order.

"It shouldn't matter who the father is, sweetie," The receptionist had told him gently. "It matters that it's yours. Make the choice based on that." 

He'd hung up. He felt a little rude. The baby had to be Lucas's, didn't it? Why was he so desperately wishing otherwise? Omegas could father children. His research on that front had turned up more than enough evidence. Of course, you had to have sex with the omega repeatedly for that to happen.

Dinner progresses in a fairly normal fashion. Damian is rude but leaves him mostly alone; Bruce must have had a talk with him about how difficult it has been for Tim lately. Probably there were threats, because Tim doubts Damian is empathetic about the loss of a relationship and as far as Bruce knows, the relationship simply broke up. It's a little strange to eat with only Bruce and Damian. It feels too intimate.

Damian has come a long way from the bratty little boy who had tried to push Tim off buildings. They don't get along as well as they should, but there are times that Tim can realize Damian is human and it's enough to keep the peace with the teenager.

"How are things?" Bruce asks him and before he can think Bruce might mean emotionally he adds "I heard your pet project is going well and might be ready for production as soon as next month." 

Work. Work is safe. Work is what he and Bruce connect about, these days. After their argument and Tim's personal life going up in flames because he supposedly took Bruce's advice, their subjects are very limited. "Yeah," Tim agrees and swallows down a bite of Alfred's meatloaf that feels like it might have sand in it. Tim knows it's his throat that is defective, knows insulting the meatloaf is like driving a knife into the butler. "I really want it done by then. Before the next budget comes out." Before he has to worry about taking time off or letting Bruce sniff him out. 

The idle chatter is actually nice. Damian claims to have homework and escapes, leaving himself and Bruce to talk over coffee. Bruce is careful with what he says, but Tim can feel he's judging. Worrying. Bruce never says that he worries, he just hovers like a stifling, overbearing bat parent. 

Still, when Tim goes home with a box of leftovers from dinner, he can't say he feels any worse.

~*~*~

He'd forgotten about his text to Jason until he wakes up to the Red Hood slinking into his kitchen from a window. It's unnerving to see. Tim really needs a security system that is family proof.

It's his night off. He wonders if Jason looked for him on the streets first or if he already knew Tim wouldn't be patrolling. Tim sits up on the sofa, rubbing his eyes. "Helmet off," He asks. He imagines Jason is scowling. Tim wants to see, wants to be able to read his expression, but Jason doesn't even twitch his hands toward removing the helmet.

"We didn't have sex, kid. In case the question kept you up at night." The words sound even more wrong through the helmet and Tim frowns, mind racing to catch up. He's not normally like this. He's just so tired lately. 

"Are you sure?" Is all he can think to say. 

Jason's bark of laughter is surprised. He steps more firmly into the living room and removes the helmet, raking a hand back over his dark hair. "Jesus Christ, Replacement. Do you really not remember? You didn't seem black out drunk." 

Tim doesn't want to admit that he lost that much control. That maybe it was alcohol and exhaustion and rage. That maybe heat had gotten the better of him and he couldn't control all his bodily functions at one time. He does remember bits and pieces of it, and they make him wonder. He remembers Jason's face as he came. Remembers pressing against him and whimpering and riding his leg for any friction...

Jason is actually looking at him disapprovingly. Jason. Jason who shoots people. Judging him for not remembering something. 

"No penis went into any orifice that wasn't a hand at any point during the night," Jason tells him and it almost sounds patient. "We didn't fuck. Though you made it damn hard." He stops, smirks. "Pun intended." 

Tim snorts. "No it wasn't. Don't lie." 

“I never pass up a good pun.” Jason shrugs and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, jostling one into his fingers and lighting up without asking Tim. "I'm not lying about us, Replacement. You were in heat. Crawled all over me and I did shit I'm not proud of but I didn't touch you like that. Just jerked it on my corner of the bed while you tried to tell me all the things you wanted me to do to you." 

Tim's hands are over his face without him realizing it. Shit. Holy shit. He's glad he doesn't remember that part of it. He makes an agonized sound.  Just because he and Jason have messed around in his heats before doesn't mean he wanted to do that. Tim had always hoped to play it relatively cool around Jason instead of babbling out every dirty fantasy he harbors for him. 

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Unless you piss me off." Jason takes a deep drag of the cigarette. "Why is it so important to you, anyway? Want to add that I'm a rapist to my rap sheet? I know I'm welcome to come over when you're in heat, but only if you invite me."

Tim grimaces. "No. Not...I didn't think that..." But he had thought that, hadn't he? As much as he knows Jason would never take advantage of him. Maybe Jason hadn't known he was doing it. MaybeTim consented but didn't remember that part of it either. Tim has pumped money into organizations fighting the idea that omegas could be responsible for their own rapes by being in heat and here is is thinking the same thing. He's ashamed of himself.

Jason shrugs. "Well, Replacement, I'm not. Didn't touch you except to pry you off me. You should really think before you get that hammered again. I'm not sure you could have gotten home on your own like that." He rises to leave, snuffing out his cigarette on the lid of an empty energy drink and reaching for his helmet. 

"I'm pregnant," Tim blurts out before he can help himself. It's bizarre for him. Admitting something to Jason that he shouldn't. Utterly failing to play it cool around him. But he needs it out. He needs to tell someone, and Jason is his current go-to for omega issues.

Jason turns and simply stares at him. Were his eyes always that green? Tim doesn't think so. He can probably find pictures for comparison in one of his scrapbooks, he thinks irrationally. "What?" Jason asks flatly. 

"I'm pregnant," Tim repeats and the words are strange and real. Why is he telling Jason? It's one more person to know his secret. To rat him out no matter the decision he makes. "It would have been about that night. I didn't remember. I had to know." 

"So you could slap me with a paternity suit or what? What the shit, Timbo? You're smarter than that. You're better than that. I doubt that's a fucking virgin conception and you said you were on birth control." Jason is seething. Tim pounces on it, jumps at the chance to be angry back. 

"I was! Every day at the same time with a back up! I was so careful and it isn't fair! None of this is fair!" The coffee table overturns as he kicks it and he stalks toward Jason. He remembers, at least, telling Jason about the birth control he was using before they spent even one heat together. Why should Jason doubt him now? "I was so fucking careful and I tried so fucking hard and now everything is absolutely fucked and I don't know what to do!"

It's like someone fired a gun in the room. Jason stares at Tim. Tim stares back. He had revealed a weakness without any intent at all to do so. He had admitted that he, Tim Drake, the smartest Robin, was at a loss because he had screwed up.

Jason looks a little ashen. He leans against the wall. "Could it have been anyone else?" He asks quietly. 

Tim grits his teeth. "You said you didn't touch me so it couldn't have been you, then," He points out. "The obvious answer was that it had to be someone else. But he's irrelevant to the situation now.” To put it mildly, as far as Tim's feelings go. 

That's when Jason seems to put two and two together. The room is oozing with pheromones at this point. Tim can smell out the edges of Jason's omega scent, even through the blocker built into his uniform. He smells caged and anxious, entirely stressed. His own scent is distressed enough that he finds it disgusting. Bruce would be ashamed. Repressing scent signals is one of the first lessons as Robin. 

"I didn't touch you," Jason begins. "But you...shit." He sits. Actually, he slides down the wall. His helmet thumps beside him and Jason pulls on his own hair. Tim's heart picks up because what could Jason be telling him?

"I what?" Tim asks. He doesn't get too close to Jason but he wants to. Wants to throttle Jason into spitting it out. He knows the other omega has issues with this type of thing, hasn't even had a heat in years as far as Tim knows, but this is about his body and his patchy memory. 

"It could have been me," Jason confesses in a whisper.  “Can I even knock you up? Is that possible?”

That doesn't seem real either. "Not if you didn't touch me," Tim repeats like that saves him. Why does Jason keep bringing it up if they hadn't had sex?

"I did what I told you. Jacked off until I could think again and then I tried to get up. You...put your hand in it. Got it on your fingers and used it as lube." 

"Put my hand in what?" Tim demands and his voice is shrill. 

"What do you think?" Jason snaps. "You were on me before I could wipe my hand or my stomach. I tried to grab you when I realized what you were doing and you bit the shit out of my wrist and headbutted me. All with one arm busy. I was kind of surprised and let you be." Well, surprised and bleeding on the floor. Jason hadn't stuck around long after that. 

Tim goes quiet. Trying to process the idea that his drunk, heat-crazed self would do that. Would stick his fingers in another omega's come and finger himself. That had to be it, didn't it? Jason wasn't stupid enough to think it could have happened another way or malicious enough to lie about something that important. 

"I was going to tell you," Jason is saying. "But I'm clean for diseases and you said you were taking something and I didn't think you wanted to know. That you wanted to just forget the whole damn thing. I certainly wanted to forget what I did in a heat. It's not like we haven't swapped fluids before. I thought I'd tell you when things were easier for you."

Tim can't remember when he last took a breath. His lungs are burning but he can't stop staring at Jason. He doesn't even know what to say after the admission. He's frightened. Of this, of Jason, of himself. Of his lack of memory. 

"Kid?" Jason says. "You don't look good."

Tim faints. He doesn't remember hitting the ground. 

~*~*~

Jason frowns and takes Tim's pulse for what is probably the tenth time in as many minutes. It's steady. He had dragged Tim back to the couch and got a glass of water and he was shit out of ideas. 

His head is too cluttered with other thoughts. Pregnant. He'd ask if Tim was sure but Tim is smart enough to figure that one out. In the time frame of his night with Jason but also in the time frame of something else. 

Of right before the alpha boyfriend had dumped him. Dick had said something about Tim adjusting, about Tim being normal. Surely that made more sense. Actual sex resulting in a pregnancy versus Tim's crazed masturbating with his semen.

That sounds insane. That is insane. What are the odds?

Not good, Jason decides. The kid has to be the mystery alpha's. 

He hears the scrape of a key in the lock on the door about a moment before it opens and that moment isn't enough time to do anything. Dick Grayson is standing there in a coat zipped up high enough that it means he's obviously still in his Nightwing uniform. He's holding a bag of takeout. Chinese, if the egg roll sticking out of his mouth is any indication. 

"Wha la fuck?" Dick says around the egg roll as he takes in the scene. Tim unconscious on the couch and Jason looming over him, the only light in the room a lamp Jason had knocked over in his haste to catch Tim as he fell. 

He drops the food and rushes forward. Toward Tim, Jason realizes, and he steps back. Dick doesn't instantly attack him and that's good but the wash of _alpha_ suddenly in the room makes Jason nervous as hell. He backs up and hates himself for doing so. Dick's scent has never been particularly commanding but it definitely is jarring in Tim's space.

"He just dropped," Jason says quickly. "We were talking and he stood up and dropped. Blood sugar or something?"

It's more or less what happened, isn't it? No need to include any other more incriminating details. 

"Tim? Come on, babybird." Dick taps his fingers against the side of Tim's face and his eyes flutter open. Jason wonders why he didn't think of doing that. 

"Dick?" He asks, hesitant, obviously confused. He starts to sit up and spots Jason. He flinches. Dick whirls on him. Jason bares his teeth instinctively. Just because he's an omega doesn't mean he hasn't gotten physical in arguments with Dick.

"What happened?" He demands. There are no injuries on Tim that Dick can see, but that hardly means anything. His emotions are running high, the urge to protect his younger brother largely trumping common sense. 

"Just like I said, Wingding. We were talking and he passed out. I wasn't even close to him," Jason snaps defensively. 

Dick looks back to Tim. Tim nods an agreement. "Must've stood up too fast or something," He says raggedly. He's trying not to tremble, trying to soothe Dick and let Jason know he wants his secret kept. "Why are you here? What about your patrol?"

"Break for dinner," Dick cuts him off. "Thought you could use some food since the last time I checked the only thing in your fridge was coffee creamer and baking soda. I didn't know you'd have...company." 

They all sit in the silence for a few beats, staring at one another. 

"I'll just be going then," Jason says when he's edged his way over to where his helmet is sitting. He needs air. He needs to think. He needs to be able to breathe. He can't do that here. 

"Wait," Tim protests, sitting up quickly enough that he nearly clocks Dick in the chin with the top of his head. Jason takes advantage of the confusion to move to the window. 

"I'll be in touch," He says. It sounds smarmy enough for Dick to not be suspicious but he hopes Tim takes it as a reassurance. He will be back. 

"You just talked," Dick repeats. Tim lost count of how many times he's said that. First it was a question and now it's a statement but Dick is still doubting. 

"Yeah," Tim answers with a shrug like he usually invites Jason into his apartment and they have tea instead of apparently bizarre attempts at sex and maybe a fist fight. "I was consulting on a case. I forgot to meet him. Fell asleep." 

"He knows where you live," Dick points out. Damn him. He's not supposed to catch on. Normally Tim could lie circles around Dick with Dick oblivious. "Did you tell him?"

Tim sighs and nods. "I was...listen, do you promise you can keep a secret?"

Keeping secrets for his brothers is what Dick lives for. He leans forward, eager, but there's still the edges of concern near his eyes. He has _wrinkles_ near his eyes, Tim realizes suddenly. The life is as hard on him as it is on Bruce. 

"I haven't...been doing great since the whole break up," Tim confides quietly. Dick makes a sympathetic sound, reaching to wrap an arm around Tim. Tim stiffens, then reluctantly allows it. It will take more effort to resist Dick's attempts at physical affection than to just accept them. Dick is warm and safe. Dick's scent has settled back down to a mellow, subtle alpha scent that may as well be beta as far as Tim is concerned.

"You know that's normal. When someone you really care about cuts off contact, it eats at you. And you didn't really have time to process or-" Dick is cut off when Tim lifts his hand. He doesn't plow through. They've made social progress on Dick.  He listens, sometimes.

“I don't really want to talk about it, Dick, but it wasn't a good break up. I broke his jaw. I tried to be professional after that and meet his colleague but then I drank too much and I didn't time my heat right and...I met Jason out. Bumped into him.” More like went seeking him. He's still not sure how he feels about that. He doesn't include the part about the gun, which he remembers, or that he'd been picking garbage out of his hair the next morning. “He brought me home.”

"Babybird," Dick says and sighs. He's clearly warring internally with himself. There's the urge to be a good big brother. The want to be the fun one who doesn't judge and the weight of experience bearing down on him that what Tim did wasn't advisable. "That was really stupid," He decides on. Tim nods. He can't even disagree. He has no defense. 

"It was. Jason told me that, too. He was...actually kind of nice to me?" Tim is still processing what he remembers of the night. Over and over Jason guiding him to bed. Helping him drink. Batting his hands away. He's trying to reconcile it with the idea that he at least masturbated in front of the alpha. That Jason did that in front of him. He doesn't know if the image in his head is reality or something conjured up by wet dreams and imagination. 

Dick sighs and leans back against the couch. His arm is still around Tim's shoulders. "We all want Jason to be reasonable. To come home and to get help. He has these moments where he's the brother I knew. And then he's...not." Dick frowns. "I don't want you to get hurt."

It's a little late for that, Tim thinks. This life lends itself to hurt. Not just heartbreak or lost friends and lovers. But actual bone-crushing hurt. He just nods, his head against Dick's upper chest. He's still so tired. He knows exhaustion is a symptom of early pregnancy. He doesn't know if he's exhausted for that or because his life is a raging garbage fire. The scent of Dick's coat is soothing to him. He forgets most of the time that Dick is an alpha. He doesn't act like it. Most of the time he barely smells like it. He's neutral in most arguments, he dates other alphas, Tim knows for a fact. But he feels a little bitter toward him. That he doesn't have to worry about pregnancy. And with as many people as he's slept with, that hardly seems fair.

He wants to tell Dick the truth. That he slept with Lucas and Lucas tried to blackmail him. That he kind of slept with Jason. That he's pregnant and he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't even want Dick's advice. He just wants to bask in being petted and comforted like when he was much younger. Before Damian had entered the picture, when he'd had Dick's undivided attention. 

At last he rouses himself and goes to set the lamp right side up and maybe turn the television to something that isn't infomercials. "You sure you're okay?" Dick asks as he goes to retrieve the fallen boxes of Chinese food, surveying the damage. The egg roll that he been in his mouth had fallen somewhere in the hallway. 

"I will be," Tim answers. "Give it some time." That's what he tells himself. And time is what he doesn't have enough of. But he helps Dick set up the cartons of take out on his tiny kitchen table and he doesn't protest much when Dick eats and runs. He's taken too long of a dinner break as it is. Tim can just nod to the promises that he'll be around more. That Tim will feel better soon.

~*~*~

Jason has never been a creature of instinct. As a kid he'd been small. Half-starved and eager to please. Pretty enough that most people assumed he'd be a beta at the very best. Of course he was volatile enough that it was unlikely, but he hoped. 

Beta. Even. Subject to both instincts. He wasn't a peacekeeper and he wasn't a helper but it was a good life, for those lucky enough. 

Instead puberty had come and he'd been an omega. A sickly, weak little omega but even that had protected him to some degree. He hadn't gone into heat before Bruce found him. He looked pitiful enough he could get far closer and steal far more. Sometimes it even bought him a few more days on the rent when his mom was sick and his dad was gone. Jason hadn't trusted alphas before. When he knew he was an omega he trusted them even less.

Bruce taught him what it meant to be a good alpha. To protect and guard. Not to overstep. Bruce respected omegas and it almost made him respect himself. The first time he took down an alpha had been a thrill and Bruce had watched with something maybe bordering on approval. 

Use the patches to block scent on patrol, Bruce taught him. Don't ever take anything that isn't freely given. Understand omegas and don't dismiss their abilities and skills. Don't think of them as weak. But under those lessons he'd taught Dick was the more important lesson for Jason. Not all alphas were bad and cruel and dangerous. 

Coming back from the dead he'd felt largely like the world was sexless. Talia ushered him back into the world of intimacy and he found he really didn't care for alphas in a sexual capacity. He'd gone on a high dose of suppressants and never looked back. The helmet protected him from scenting most of his enemies. He fought everyone on an equal playing field.

He wasn't stupid enough to think that it was like that for everyone. But it never really occurred to him when he found out his replacement was an omega. It made him furious, at first. Bruce hadn't just found another Robin but he'd found another Omega Robin. One slim and pretty. One that seemed to embrace his status because Tim Drake didn't hide behind a scent blocker like Red Robin did. It had to be a hard path to travel, being so open about it, but Jason hadn't considered that either in his darker moments.

He'd seen the kid once at a board meeting. Commanding attention with a quiet kind of steel in his voice. Making them bow to his requests from will alone. And now he was pregnant. A mistake of biology. 

Jason calls a clinic in one of his stupider phases of needing to be reassured. One of the places in a slum district of Gotham that tries its best. He's been patched up a few times there but he knows they mostly handle contraceptives. 

"Suppose," He tells the nurse on call. She sighs and sounds tired. He realizes it's barely seven in the morning and she probably just got there and now has to listen to his bullshit. "I'm an omega. Suppose my girlfriend gave me a handjob then touched herself. Could she get pregnant?"

To her credit, the woman doesn't laugh. "Is she an omega too?" She asks and Jason gives her points for not assuming. He hums a confirmation. "In heat?" He questions if she has a little check box or a flow chart. 

"Not...no. She said she wasn't. It was out of schedule?" He's hopeful that makes sense. The nurse doesn't press so maybe that happens more than he thinks. "Wait, would that affect the chances?"

"Heats make an omega more likely to conceive," The nurse confirms. "Was there penetration or did she touch herself externally?"

Jason swallows heavily. Remembers Tim sliding his fingers deep inside himself, enough Jason thought his whole hand might slide into his body. "Penetration. Definitely penetration." He feels guilty getting even a little bit hard right now. 

"It's possible," The nurse confirms. "Not extremely likely but entirely possible." 

"What are my odds here? 30/70? 50/50?"

"That would depend on how many partners your girlfriend had," The nurse answers. After a moment she asks. "Do you need help? We offer anonymous and free testing for STDs as well as pregnancy tests and ultrasounds. Your girlfriend could-" 

"Thanks," He cuts her off. "Thanks. We're good."  He hangs up and doesn't bother to tell her that it's another male omega, because for some reason that feels way more personal than describing his sex acts with a fictional girlfriend to her.

They're not good. But they're both adults, not scared kids. He doesn't realize until later that he never really got an answer to his question about the odds of it. It's possible and that's all he really needs to know. 

He never thought he would get anyone into that kind of trouble. He saw it too often. Working girls and normal omegas left as a single parent suddenly. Struggling to make ends meet. He always swore that if he had a kid he was going to be there, make sure the kid and their other parent were taken care of. He never considered he would be the one having the kid, or needing to be cared for. 

Of course, children had seemed like less and less of a possibility as his life progressed. And ended. And progressed again. Was he even fertile after his death and a swim in the Lazarus pit?

It's not dark enough for Red Hood to go out and bust some faces for stress relief. Jason barricades himself in his home gym and destroys a punching bag.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim does the Red Robin thing, then has a talk with Jason.

At some point through the next week, Tim realizes he's rubbing his belly. It has no reasonable explanation. The skin isn't stretching. He's not itchy. He doesn't hurt. He doesn't feel much of anything. It is entirely his subconscious playing on him and that freaks him out beyond measure. 

He leans behind his desk at the office, chewing on the end of a pen held in one hand while the other rubs, slipping into his suit jacket. In the shower he takes advantage of exposed skin to stroke while he dunks his face under the spray of the water and thinks. Even on patrol he's rubbing. Through layers of Kevlar and his uniform until Damian asks him if he needs his suit tailored again. 

It's probably a jibe at Tim getting fat. He ignores it, because that's better than what else Damian might think. He's fortunate it's the demon brat who notices and not anyone else. Damian is sharp and perceptive, but Damian is also inexperienced enough to not place the puzzle pieces in the right order.

He doesn't want to give it up, he realizes one night on patrol. Flying at Batman's side through skyscrapers, after Penguin's gang and some diamonds. It's a hokey enough chase to be like the old days and he almost laughs at the feeling of it. 

Bruce catches him smiling. There's a brief not quite smile in response that thrills Tim still and reminds him there's a human under the cowl. That Batman is still proud of him, that he's still a credit to his family.

They fight in tandem like they used to. Robin is with Nightwing. Bruce doesn't need the backup but he'd been in the area when Oracle called and feeling Batman's steadying presence at his back is actually nice. 

Tim lands a roundhouse kick to the last goon's face and assists in zip tying them for police. He casts a look at the diamonds and gives a low whistle. A literal car trunk full of diamonds. "What do you think Penguin wants with these?"

Batman shrugs. It's barely a hitch of a shoulder under the cape. "Capital to buy something he does want." As though that's obvious. Probably, it is. 

He stays close to Batman's side. If he notices, he doesn't say anything. At least not until they are completing the wide loop that Red Robin knows ends their patrol. It's been a largely quiet night. 

"When are you going back to the Titans?" Batman asks when they land on a rooftop. Red Robin chokes, feeling that burn of shame that sometimes appears ever since Damian took Robin from him. That he's unwanted. That Batman is pushing him away and Bruce is as well. 

"I need time," Red Robin grits out between his teeth. It's an admission of weakness that has no place with Batman but it's the easiest way to explain it. "They're fine without me. I want time to be on my own." 

Batman says nothing. 

"I've earned time on my own," Red Robin claims and tries not to sound whiny or like a child or like Batman can make him do anything he doesn't want to do. He's not a child any more. He doesn't mention Lucas Powers or any other relationship issue. He doesn't bring up how much he's done for Wayne Enterprises while he's been here. 

"I'm not telling you to go," Batman says flatly and that almost knocks him down because it's as close to an admission that he wants him around as he gets. "I was questioning when. I have a few projects and would like to know your availability." 

Like a partner? That was how things worked with Nightwing, wasn't it? Batman asked and Nightwing answered and could actually refuse?

"I hadn't thought of a time frame," Red Robin admits. "What do you need done?"

But Batman doesn't answer. He shoots his grapple and they head back from patrol. For a change, Red Robin follows him to the manor.

Nightwing has made the same choice. He's already showered and is letting Alfred stitch up a superficial cut on the side of his neck. Not deep, Tim knows instantly. 

"Why is he here? I thought he'd been retired," Damian says snidely from his perch in Bruce's chair. 

"Good to see you, too," Tim answers as he passes by him and ruffles his hair. Damian doesn't take his hand off at the wrist, which is a testament to how far their relationship has come. "I'm crashing here tonight." 

He hadn't made the announcement to Bruce. He hadn't decided until that moment. Part of him wants to needle Damian. Part of him wants to be surrounded by the scents of his family and coddled by Alfred and noticed by Dick and praised by Bruce. He's craving the interaction. He has nothing to blame but the fetus inside him wanting him to form stronger family bonds to protect it. He really needs to stop thinking of it as a mind controlling parasite. 

"Very good, Master Timothy," Alfred cuts in before Damian can say more. "I shall make certain the sheets in your bedroom are up to standard." 

He can't imagine anyone has slept in them since he was last here and they've no doubt been changed since then. There's no point in arguing with Alfred. 

There's some more banter but they're all tired. Dick goes upstairs first and Damian hastens to follow, in case Tim gets any ideas about talking to his brother, he assumes. It's not long before Tim yawns and starts to head to his room but Bruce stops him. 

He's somehow more intense with the cowl off and the white lenses gone. His eyes are pale, like ice. Tim had been startled by them at first. It had taken time to relax around Bruce's cut, strong features when his own father's face had been far more of an open book. 

"If there's anything you want to say," Bruce begins slowly. The words sound forced and rehearsed, but Tim knows that makes them no less genuine. That's just how Bruce is. "I'm here," He finishes and his brow crinkles a bit to show he's displeased in how that went. 

Tim is struck again by the urge to blurt out everything. Bruce, at least, would give him advice if not a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. Instead he nods. He doesn't deny there are things he wants to say but not now. He can't. "I know." 

Bruce nods. Tim nods back and continues into his room. And it will always be his even if he doesn't live here now. The bed is sinfully comfortable. He contemplates how to transport it back to his apartment. But it's a passing whim before sleep claims him, and his fingers curl against his stomach. 

Tim stays at the manor a bit more. Part of it is the company and another part is that he's been craving Alfred's cooking. More, still, is the fact that exhaustion has settled over him like a wet blanket and it's simply easier to stay there when he's consulting with Bruce. He refuses to believe it's any type of omega urge to be home, to be protected by his family because of the new life his body is trying to create.

He wasn't aware something so minuscule could interrupt his life so terribly. It's the size of a pea, he's checked, and yet he feels like an elephant is sitting on his chest. And keeping him awake at night. And making him drop not so subtle hints to Alfred that he would really appreciate the poached salmon for dinner. He feels like an animal. He feels out of control. He still doesn't know what to do.

One night he's decided on an abortion. Gotham needs Red Robin and things are even starting to go well between him and his adoptive family. Things are getting back on track. The Titans will no doubt be doing more than casually calling soon enough. He needs to get back to work and a pregnancy and subsequent baby are not conducive to that. He doesn't want to be like his own parents in the sense of leaving the child at all hours. Making him or her feel abandoned without actually going through with the act. 

The next afternoon while he's heaving up the remains of the espresso from his stomach into the toilet, he's thinking to it. _Why are you going to torture me? It's morning sickness, not all day sickness. What am I not giving you that you need?_ Of course it isn't a sentient creature yet. Nine weeks and the embryo doesn't even have functioning brain waves. It's still in a parasitic stage, still feeding off of him, and boy does he feel it. It's the idea of it that rolls around in his mind. The curiosity of what it would look like as a baby and then as a child. Curiosity is not the best basis to continue a pregnancy. 

He thinks of calling Cass. He thinks the better of it since the Black Bat will no doubt read something in the way he moves if she sees him in person. She's not much for telephone conversation, obviously. 

He decides he needs to talk to Jason. The only living person who knows about this, and Jason isn't going to approach him when he's at the manor. He goes back to his apartment and actually cleans the place up. He really let it get out of hand through the past few weeks. 

~*~*~  
As though summoned by magical cleaning elves, Jason appears that evening. Not Red Hood, but Jason Todd. Knocking on his door and slipping in once Tim opens it. He sits at the table and folds his hands. Tim sighs and sits across from him, as much as he would prefer being anywhere else. Having any other conversation. 

"I don't think you did anything wrong," Tim says at last to break the quiet. He wants a drink, but he's not going to indulge. He's done precious little else to protect the life inside him other than downing a prenatal vitamin when he remembers. "I was mostly sober, right? I asked you to do even more to me and you said no. You had a standing invitation to do more, even..." 

Not that Jason had ever claimed it. Sometimes they exchanged oral. Sometimes Tim rode Jason's fingers to completion. They never talked about it afterward. It never changed things between them. They'd never progressed to actual intercourse. 

"I should have walked away," Jason replies. "Don't argue with me, Replacement. I should have put you inside and locked the door and kept guard outside. It's what was right. You were at least a little drunk. You were in whatever kind of not heat that was-"

"I'm your..." Tim makes a vague gesture. "We're connected. I've invited you before I was ever in heat. I agreed to it when I was fully aware." 

"That was before whatever the fuck happened in your relationship, Timmers. Before you were drunk enough I at least had to carry you home." There's reproach in Jason's expression, but it's for himself. Tim feels guilty all over again. He knows Jason has issues about this. About blatant consent. Even so...

"You couldn't account for what I would do," Tim says softly. "As far as I know? I've never done that and never would. I'm not sure why I thought that was a good idea." His cheeks heat up. After Jason told him he started to remember a few more pieces. He even remembers lunging toward, Jason, pressing his hand against his stomach and then his hand. Bringing it up to his lips and changing his mind, reaching between his legs instead. Particularly he remembers the look on Jason's face. One of frustration and arousal and then Jason grabbing for him. 

He really had bitten Jason and headbutted him, intent on making himself feel good and taking out the fact that Jason wouldn't on him. Tim's _never_ bitten anyone like that. 

Jason isn't saying anything. He stares at his hands and at the refrigerator and at the wall. Anything but at Tim and Tim can't blame him. It's not a conversation he thought they'd ever be having. Or that he would ever be having with anyone else. When he thinks about it, he's never imagined being pregnant. Of course he's known since early on that he had the ability to have children. But he's never thought of it in any concrete way. 

His fingers are on his stomach again. Jason does catch that gesture. "What are you going to do?"

Tim sighs and shrugs. He goes to start a pot of coffee because he still has patrol tonight, no matter how tired he is. "I don't know. It's weird. I know what I would tell someone else to do but when it's me? It feels kind of selfish. Wanting to get rid of it or wanting to keep it. I wouldn't exactly be a great parent and that's not fair to saddle a kid with. I wouldn't want to give it up...I just can't do it.”

Jason reaches out and snags his wrist. Tim looks at him, meeting his gaze. He's never seen Jason look so intense, at least not being this close to him. "You can't live your life for what's right for others. I know Bruce would make you think you have to but you have to make choices that are what you want at some point. Shit, Replacement. You're knocked up and you're still thinking about your duty to other people." 

Tim doesn't see it that way. He sees it as taking into account all the factors. He pours himself a cup of coffee, slowly turning away from Jason. "What do you think I should do?" He's curious for Jason's insight. “What would you do?”

Jason snorts. "I don't know either. Like I said, it's all on you.”

“But if it were you,” Tim pursues. 

“It will never be me,” Jason answers firmly. “And it would never have gotten to this stage, if it were. But I'm not you. This is one of those things you have to do without input.” Jason sighs. “My advice? Be selfish. Think of yourself first because a kid sure as fuck doesn't benefit from being alive if no one wants it." 

Tim might debate that, unwanted as it felt like he was. But Jason, too probably wasn't high on his parents list of priorities. He sits down again with his coffee and Jason looks supremely awkward. "You know I'm around. For whatever you need." 

Tim is a little surprised by the offer, but maybe he shouldn't be. Jason always has taken responsibility for things. Has tried to do right in particular instances and potentially impregnating an omega would probably count as one of those instances. Red Hood protects omegas and children. 

"I can't know whose it is," Tim admits. "Not for a few more weeks if I want to get those tests. It would be tricky to even have a paternity test run off of that but I think I can sway them with a few grants or certain donations to their clinics." 

Jason absorbs that for a moment. "Does it matter? Whose kid it is? If you'll keep it or not?" He looks almost hurt and Tim mentally retraces his words and grimaces. 

"Not like that! I'm not making the decision to terminate based on that! I meant if I kept it. I wouldn't ask you to take responsibility for something that wasn't your fault. I didn't want you to invest too many resources in taking care of this if it wasn't yours to take care of." 

Jason frowns. There's a crease in the middle of his forehead that Tim wants to smooth out and he's not sure why he has that urge. "You think I'll drop you like you're hot if it's not mine?"

Tim blinks at him. "I assumed. It would be logical." 

Jason considers this. He can't even argue that it's not logical for him to want to take care of an omega he's never actually had sex with and a baby that isn't his. 

"You need someone," Jason tells him. "Whatever way you swing. Whatever choice you make. I'm assuming you haven't told anyone else?" He waits for Tim to shake his head a negative. "Then, princess, your knight is here to get you out of this tower." Jason grins, cocky, far more confident than he feels. 

Tim can't help it. He laughs. Jason reaches over the table to take his hand and he feels at least a little less alone.

"So is the other potential baby daddy the alpha who dumped you?" Jason asks and Tim almost appreciates the bluntness. Almost, but he gives Jason a look as to how he happened to have that information. "Dickie talks," Jason offers . "He never means to, but he does. Wants me to take it easy on you because he thinks it was a hard break up. Was it?"

Tim doesn't want to have this conversation now. Or ever. But he knows he's going to have to. Pretending something didn't happen never makes it the case. "Yes," He confirms. "We never did anything without protection so don't tell me how stupid I am for that." For everything else, sure, but not for that.

Jason sits across from him, elbows on his spread knees, simply watching. He doesn't pry. But Tim thinks maybe he should hear a little more of the story than he told anyone else. "He didn't dump me, though. I found out he was married so I broke his jaw." 

He'd be cringing, waiting for a reprimand if he confided it to Bruce or Alfred or basically anyone else. Jason just grins. "You broke his jaw for being married?"

"I broke his jaw for calling me a bitch and trying to blackmail me," Tim corrects and makes an agonized sound when Jason's face darkens. "Don't make this a thing, Jason. I took care of it."

Jason doesn't like most Alphas. Doesn't trust them, and with good reason from what Tim can understand of it. "How did you take care of it?"

"Completely wiped his computer system," Tim confides and that has Jason smirking again. "I considered telling his wife but that felt too much like a Lifetime movie." He feels maybe a little guilty over that, but he'll be watching. He'll make sure she finds out the truth if she needs to. "I gave a flash drive with some of the charity information on it to one of his partners but that's it." 

“What did he have to blackmail you with?” Because, surely perfect Tim Drake didn't just leave that kind of stuff lying around. 

Tim sighs. “I took some photos of myself. Some video. Some sexual stuff that wouldn't be catastrophic if it got out but would definitely be humiliating.” 

Jason is warring with rage and satisfaction. Tim can really take care of himself, but a broken jaw hardly seems punishment enough. "You going to tell him about this?" He makes a gesture toward Tim's stomach and Tim shakes his head a negative. 

"He knows me as Tim Drake. I'll be lucky if he doesn't find out but I hope a month with his mouth wired shut reminds him to keep it that way," Tim notes darkly. Of course he knows this baby has to exist on paper and in public. He wants the privacy but Tim Drake has to be a parent to avoid legal issues later. An adoption would be too difficult and too random to stage at this point. "But in an ideal world, he would never know." 

Jason considers this information. "Is that why you want to know paternity so much? You want to be able to plan?" 

Tim nods, silent. 

"Kid, I hate to say it, but there's no way this dumb fuck has a chance of laying any claim to you or your kid. With Bruce's lawyers? With the Bat himself? Fuck, even Damian would rip his face off and make him eat it for daring to think he could do anything that would slander the Wayne name." 

"Like be a single omega having the child of a married alpha," Tim points out. 

"I didn't see a ring on his mom's finger and I'm pretty sure he was conceived under worse circumstances." 

"Gross," Tim says.

Jason agrees. 

"But I can do this," Tim announces when half of Jason's beer is gone and he's still sullenly nursing the coffee. "Either way. If its yours then we have a medical miracle and scientific marvel. Scientists will line up to stab the kid of two omegas with needles." He swears he hears Jason growl and waves him off. "But I'm going to stop that too.” 

“I'll be right there to help you,” Jason agrees, then hesitantly adds “Even if we're not together like that. Even if I'm just the occasional booty call for you. Or nothing at all.”

“You'll never be nothing,” Tim responds. Jason simply shrugs it off and Tim knows his limit has been reached. “I want this baby to be as normal as possible considering the gigantic clusterfuck we've all grown up in."

"That might be the first time I've heard you refer to it as a clusterfuck." 

Tim shrugs. "I love my family. Our family. I wouldn't change it but to refuse to admit that it is a miasma of a clusterfuck would just be living in denial. I don't intend to give up Red Robin or move out of Gotham or any of that. I want my child to know everyone here. I want it to have a family." 

Jason can't argue with that, so he doesn't. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry the chapter is a little boring but pacing picks up starting next time! Thanks for staying with me!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim makes a choice and defends himself against the forces of evil, also known as Damian. Jason helps a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pacing picks up slightly starting this chapter. I swear five chapters will not be devoted to every month. I am taking your suggestions and thoughts into account. An entire side-fic got written based on wanting to see the four Robins interacting! Thanks for your input and sticking with me this long.

Patrol helps clear his head. He goes solo tonight, but whenever he skirts into Red Hood's territory he knows Jason is watching him. 

He stops two muggings and breaks up a street fight. He covers a wider expanse of territory than normal with Batman and Robin investigating a lead on some serial homicides. The city has been quiet lately and that worries Tim. When the psychos stay quiet it's usually because they are planning something much bigger. 

When Oracle buzzes in his ear to tell him about an apartment fire, he goes. He's not otherwise occupied and even if the fire department already has it well in hand it never hurts to build some good will with the neighborhood. 

Most of the residents have been evacuated. It's not the building he hears crying coming from, it's the dumpster behind the building. Dropping down, he peeks around the edge to see a young girl huddled. Upon seeing his masked face she screams, reeling back and his hand shoots out to cushion the impact of the back of her skull with the metal of the dumpster. "I'm not going to hurt you," He tells her, unsure if he can be heard over the blaze of the fire and her frantic sobs. "Come on. The fire is getting close. Was that where you live?"

He gets a nod, which is progress. 

"Everyone's out of the building," He reassures her. "Do you want to come with me and we'll find your parents?"

Another nod. This time when he opens his arms she launches herself into them, previous trepidation of masked vigilantes gone. She doesn't seem to be hurt, only scared, and he has to admit the hiding spot would be a good one if it weren't so close to the fire. She's sweating in his arms; if it had gone on much longer maybe she would have been dehydrated. Or inhaled too much smoke. 

He's deciding if he should find her parents himself or give her over to a police officer when a young man bursts out of the herd of onlookers. The man is covered in soot, and he'd been on the ground being checked over by the paramedic. He's too quick for anyone to grab, plowing through the wooden barricade to run at Tim. Tim is reaching for a batarang when the girl in his arms turns and almost flies at the man. "Daddy!" She shrieks, hitting decimals that Tim is sure no human ear should have to hear. But she's joyous and the young man is crying when he gets her in his arms. 

Red Robin watches the reunion for a little longer than he should. The fear melting off the man's face to be replaced by relief and love is a marvel to observe. The easy way his dirty hand combs through her pale hair, leaving streaks of ash in its wake is love at its purest. "I lost you," The man whispers to her. "I'm so sorry, Ella. I didn't mean to let go of your hand when we were out and then I thought you ran back in..." 

Ella hadn't run into the blaze, fortunately. She'd run to hide when she lost sight of her dad. Red Robin is lost in watching them. The way Ella nuzzles against her father's neck to scent him. He can't smell anything through the acrid stench of smoke but it seems to soothe her. Her father cradles her against his chest and Red Robin feels suddenly uncomfortable as he turns to survey the scene again to be sure the fire is under control. 

If he's honest with himself, he wants a child. Not now, maybe, but some day. He wants that affection and that love. He wants to feel that for someone. He wants to do his best by a child to give him or her the happiest life he possibly can. He wants that normalcy he never got as a kid. He wants the human connection Bruce critiqued him for lacking.

He knows from experience that superheroes die young rather than old. He knows that a million things might happen in the next decade that would affect his ability to bear a child or even his capacity to care for one. Dick isn't even thirty and complains about arthritis. Damian isn't even out of puberty and he's been shot countless times. They don't have the promise of tomorrow.

It doesn't have to be this chance and this child. But there might never be another. Red Robin stops to try to breathe air that isn't laced with smoke. He can't make this decision out of fear for something that isn't inevitable. 

He thinks of Ella with hair paler than his child's will probably be The tears on her father's face and the raw love he'd had. How easy it would have been to destroy him if something happened to his child. A child is a weakness; there's no way around that even if Batman would want him to believe otherwise in his case. But it's a weakness worth having, maybe. 

~*~*~

Deciding to keep the baby and continue the pregnancy is, as it turns out, not the end of decision making. Tim hasn't been good to his body these past weeks and he knows it. He's been getting more sleep by virtue of being entirely exhausted. Exhausted enough he sometimes worries about being able to function. It's suggested pregnant betas and omegas limit their caffeine consumption and Tim almost laughs as he reads that information. That ship has sailed. 

He schedules a prenatal appointment with Dr. Grace. He's still not ready to have his secret found out and he's honestly buried under piles of research about Gotham's various obstetricians and midwifes. He knows Leslie Tompkins could do in a pinch but she's no specialist. Also the thought of having her doing something so intimate has him irrationally embarrassed. Likewise he wants someone discreet, even knowing that delivering the child of an unmarried Wayne heir is going to provide some notoriety. He can't give birth under an alias, however much he wants to. 

He calls Jason. It's the same number he received the original texts from. Not a burner phone after all. "Talk," Jason says in greeting at the same time Tim says "Hey." and there's a bit of a silence while Tim regroups. Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe he should confess to Alfred and let the old man take him to his appointment. Maybe he should go alone and deal with it, like he had last time. 

"I uh...I have an appointment. The first prenatal one. I was wondering if...you don't have to or anything. It's going to be pretty boring...but if you wanted you could come?" Tim realizes after he's stammered all of that out that he should have prefaced it with the fact he's decided to continue the pregnancy. He shouldn't have bothered Jason with something like this. 

He's been alone for too long. He's desperate for human contact he doesn't have to lie to. That must be the reason he called in the first place. Jason is silent. "I uh. Nevermind. That's stupid. You wouldn't want to come. Sorry. I mean that I'm sorry. Not that you're sorry. You have every right to-" 

"What time?" Jason interrupts. Tim checks the clock, about to answer it's about six in the evening. No, that wasn't what he meant. 

"Three. On Tuesday. It's a little outside of Gotham so I need to leave work about two." Jason could time his arrival based on the distance from Wayne Enterprises, couldn't he? "I'll text you the address." 

"I'll pick you up," Jason counters. "I've seen you drive when your nerves are shot to hell, babybird. It's much safer to just give me the keys." 

Tim can't argue. He's a little shell-shocked that Jason is coming and wants to drive him and what if this isn't his baby? It's not. It's really, definitely, probably not Jason's. Will he send a retroactive bill for his time and services when it's not? The thought makes Tim choke on a laugh. 

"Replacement?" Jason prompts. "Still with me? Did you swallow your tongue?"

"Yeah," Tim answers. "I mean no. No swallowing. That's not even possible without some serious effort, you know. The lingual frenulum keeps the tongue rooted to the floor of your mouth." 

He can almost hear Jason smirking at him through the phone. "Then I'll pick you up outside your office at two on Tuesday?"

Tim nods then realizes Jason can't see him. "I'll wait for you out front." 

“I'll look for you.” Jason pauses, just for a moment, just long enough Tim thinks he might have been disconnected. “You really want this? This is the decision you made?”

Tim doesn't feel like it's a fight to justify it, only that Jason is checking to be sure. “I wanted him or her,” Tim replies softly. “Maybe not right now. Maybe not like this. But I did want them eventually.” 

Jason makes a sound of agreement. “I'll see you tomorrow.” It's only when he hangs up he realizes that might be a bad idea. Tim Drake seen getting into the car of a strange man. But surely people will dismiss it. He's the largely unnoticed son, after all. 

~*~*~

Tuesday is busy for Tim in the morning. He's cut down to three cups of coffee and that's something akin to torture, especially when Damian has decided today is the day to unleash his true hellspawn nature. He takes glee in pointing out all of Tim's recent errors. There have been a shameful amount, Tim knows, and he hopes the brain fog clears up sooner rather than later. He drifts between Bruce's office, blessedly empty today, and Tim's if only to cause trouble. 

There's a project management meeting, a finance meeting, a casual coffee sit down with the head of an under performing division. Tim is pleasant and tries to not show how tired he is. If anyone notices his lack of wit or sudden, brilliant solutions then they don't say anything. 

Except for Damian. Tim is desperately trying to get rid of him because there's no way a work study program lasts this long and people are going to get suspicious of the teenager constantly being around. But it's nearly two and the demon brat is going nowhere. 

"I have to go," Tim states simply as he grabs his bag and stuffs a folder in it to review later. 

"Where are you going?" Damian demands. "The company requires attention. Even your inept attention would suffice since Father is out of town and my signature is not _legal_ on these documents." His snide tone made legal sound like a curse. Tim tries to have a little sympathy normally; it's difficult being as capable as any adult and more so than some and still being a minor. But today? He walks past Damian. 

"I'm taking my lunch," Tim informs him despite the fact this is going to take much longer than an hour.

"You had lunch," Damian protests. "I was witness to that vile concoction you inhaled two hours ago." 

"Tuna salad," Tim corrects. "Alfred made it. I'll be sure to tell him you think it's vile." 

"Only the manner in which you consumed it. Like a sea gull sliding rotten fish down its gullet," Damian amends. Tim rolls his eyes and punches the elevator button. He wants to push it more but that would hardly get the elevator here any faster. There's no sense in letting Damian know he's getting any kind of emotional response from him. 

Damian steps into the elevator with him when it arrives. Tim groans. He should have hidden earlier and taken the stairs. "I suppose I can allow you an hour for leisure," Damian says, having reached the bargaining phase he eventually does when he realizes he's being ignored. If you pretend you're allowing something, no one can disobey you. "When will you return?"

"Not today," Tim tells him easily. "Tomorrow morning." He wills the elevator to go faster. 

Damian huffs. Tim feels a pang of sympathy for whoever ends up with Damian hovering over them at the office for the next few hours, taking his frustrated and impotent rage out on them in lieu of Tim. He reminds himself this is something necessary. For himself. For his potential child. Wayne Enterprises and doing Damian damage control can't keep being his responsibility.

"Drake! Your negligence is a liability! Have you cleared this time with Father? I will make certain he knows you abandoned your post!" Damian trails him out of the elevator and through the front lobby. The security guards and the receptionist on the switch board both look long-suffering upon seeing Damian. Tim gives them a half wave as he leaves. 

What has he read in parenting books? What has he seen Bruce and Alfred do to deal with Damian? Be firm. Don't show your fear. Make yourself bigger than you are...well actually some of those might be for bears. "The time has been scheduled for a week," Tim lies with a smile. "Excuse me, my lunch appointment is here." He walks out but even the revolving glass door isn't enough to stop Damian's pursuit. Tim wishes he could slam him in it, or at least jam the door.

"What is so important that you're doing this, Drake?" Damian demands. 

Of course it's at that time that Jason pulls up, leaning over to open the door of his car. It's red, but a surprisingly sedate looking sedan. Tim isn't sure where he got it but he pretends he's been looking for it all along. Which he has been, just the driver and not the actual vehicle. He catches the edge of the door as Jason swings it at him and slides in, dropping into the passenger seat.

Damian is staring, green eyes wide. 

"You'll catch flies that way," Jason offers him with an evil looking smile. Damian sputters but Tim reaches for the door handle. 

"Have a nice day, Damian." He slams the passenger door closed. Jason pulls away. Tim can see Damian in the rearview mirror, watching them drive away. That's going to cost him, later. At very least some questions from Bruce. But right now it feels like a victory and he hasn't had enough of those lately. 

"How much trouble are you going to be in?" Jason asks with a grin that says he doesn't care at all how much shit Tim gets for this. 

Tim makes a dismissive sound. "None. I'm entitled to time off and I'm an adult. It's none of their business what I'm doing." 

"As much as I love the spirit of that statement," Jason begins. "And believe me, I absolutely do. It's great to me whenever someone tells Bruce to keep his pointy cowl out of their business. What are you doing? What are we doing?"

Tim has been dreading the question for quite a while. "I have no idea," He admits. "I'm usually so planned and structured but I'm jumping in. Taking a leap of faith even if those are for the ill-informed and under prepared." He offers Jason a shy smile, fingers toying with the hem of his jacket. "This is stupid to do and I know that. But when I thought about it, it's what I want. I want to see this through and give this thing the best I can offer." 

"This thing?" Jason prompts.

"The baby," Tim replies, words hesitant. He tests it. "This baby. My baby?" They sound so alien to him. They are words he didn't think he'd say ever but especially not so soon. "Though it's weird to think about, isn't it? You're calling it what the end product of the gestational period is. You don't refer to it as a zygote or a blastocyst or embryo and you rarely hear fetus outside of the medical world." 

"You've been reading again," Jason says derisively like Tim doesn't know he has shelves and shelves of books. Of course very few of them are probably about the stages of a pregnancy. "How do you want to play it today? Aliases? Up front and honest? As honest as we can be..." 

Tim briefs him and doesn't even smack Jason when he makes fun of the impromptu alias Tim is using. He purposefully left the details of the identity vague so he would have space to change his mind or alter the backstory to fit the situation. He pays in cash so there's no reason for any medical insurance fraud. The clinic sees enough omegas from enough backgrounds that he doesn't raise any red flags. Another unexpectedly pregnant omega who isn't questionably old or young, arriving for healthcare. 

No reason to handle him enough to find out about his numerous broken bones. No reason to do anything in depth. There's a kind of freedom to taking on another identity. 

He feels on edge, but treating this like a mission almost helps. There's something to be said for the power of disassociation.

Jason turns on the stereo. It's something from Jason's personal collection, old fashioned and upbeat but he doesn't pay much attention to it. _Well, you know my secret. I'm tellin' you the reason why. So don't bother my baby. And please don't try._

They're left in silence when Jason turns it off again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim has his first official doctor's appointment and a dating ultrasound. Tim panics. Jason is weirdly good at being reasonable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for medical discussions and an ultrasound, in case that freaks anybody out! Want to see something in particular? Hoping for a particular side plot? Stick it in the comics and I'll see if I can get to it.

The drive passes quickly enough and Tim doesn't realize the magnitude of what they are doing until he's checked in at the clinic. He doesn't realize he's shaking until Jason reaches over and puts a firm hand on his leg to keep him from vibrating himself out of the chair. "Hey," He says softly. "It's okay. It's nothing worse than what we've had done to us before, right? We can deal with this like we deal with anything else.”

We. Like they are a team. Tim is about to reply that it's not so much fear of it being bad as fear of the unknown when the medical assistant calls his name. Carla again. She smiles upon seeing him. "I'm glad to see you came back! Are you ready?" She glances over to Jason and looks almost pleased. "Did you bring someone? He can come back with you."

Tim looks at Jason. Jason looks back at him, clearly waiting for him to make the decision. He gestures for Jason to follow. He can always send him out if it's anything too personal and he's almost worried to leave Jason alone in the waiting room. 

He's familiar with the first steps. She weighs him and checks his pulse, his blood pressure, and his temperature. He tries not to blush at the fact Jason is sitting not four feet away and Jason does his part by pretending to read a magazine. They draw blood again and Tim grimaces because he's not nearly hydrated enough for the stick to be easy this time. 

"The doctor will be in to do an exam. When was the last time you had an annual?" Carla asks and Tim thinks about throwing himself out a window. This hadn't been mentioned last time. 

"Twenty weeks ago," Tim counters because he actually had counted back. He'd wanted to have everything renewed birth control wise. It had been when he and Lucas were starting to get serious again. "I don't want to do any of that today. Just...the basics. What I have to have done." 

Jason isn't looking at him. He's clearly uncomfortable, but he's sticking it out, and Tim appreciates that. "I can go if you want-" 

"Stay," Tim orders and points at the chair. Jason sinks back into it. Carla blinks between the two of them, probably wondering what's going on. Tim doesn't want to have to destroy more evidence than the blood. He doesn't want Jason there for anything so invasive. He doesn't want anything so invasive done to him. 

"Okay," Carla agrees gently. She's giving him a look like he's being difficult, but she doesn't press. "We need to do an ultrasound for dating reasons since you didn't get pregnant in a regular heat. Keep your bladder full for that; we'll get the urine sample afterward. If you'll just fill out this questionnaire, they'll take you back for the ultrasound soon." 

Tim nods and takes the clipboard. He stares at the questions and groans. Jason stands up, carefully approaching to peer over him in curiosity at the forms. His scent is...strong, Tim thinks. Not distressed but, instead, protective. Uncomfortable. It's distracting. "What is it?"

"When I pick the doctor I'm actually going to go to I have to do all this over," Tim replies. He hadn't thought that over. "I guess I could steal the records and put my name on them."  Fewer chances for duplicate tests to go wrong, then.

He can't fill out all the medical questions as accurately as he probably should. There's no excuse for how many blood transfusions he's had or how many bones he's had broken. He does it to the best of his ability and tries to pick the relevant things. Jason taps the paper under 'prior surgeries'. "You don't have a spleen." 

Tim scowls, but he knows Jason is right. The bullets and shrapnel dug out of him are nothing that might affect a pregnancy but not having a spleen would. Why hasn't he thought to research that? He writes it down. 

It's not long before there's another technician to take him for an ultrasound. Tim gets on the table and lifts his shirt and lowers his pants enough that the surgical drape over him is a comfort that he won't reveal anything too intimate. He doesn't want to strip down in front of these people and show them all his scars. It would raise too many questions. Jason hovers somewhere in the vicinity of his head and Tim pretends that his heart isn't pounding and that he doesn't want to throw up. 

"Okay?" Jason asks softly when the tech turns to get the equipment set up. He meets Tim's eyes. They're not good at expressing emotions, any of them. Even Dick who is happy to have someone cry all over him tends to shut like a clam when he's unhappy. 

Tim tries to smile and can't. It's all too much. He brings his hands up to cover his face. He feels raw and exposed and this is only an ultrasound. Like when he sees the screen this all might become real. He's supposed to be excited, isn't he? His first glimpse at his baby. 

"We'll just do a quick scan to measure the size of the fetus," The tech tells him. Tim thinks her name was Ashley. She's an omega too, and she's a little jumpy with Jason in such close quarters to her because he's menacing, even in a world of hovering alpha partners. No one has questioned if Jason is his partner, who just happens to be an omega. Jason is smirking because someone actually did use the word 'fetus'. 

Tim nods and doesn't trust his voice. Ashley is still smiling but Tim knows she realizes that it's not as happy a moment for him as it is for some. What if something is wrong? What if having two omega parents will make it have two heads or a tail or something? What if some kind of crime-fighting related injury becomes visible? How is he going to cover it up?

"I'll take care of it," Jason says as though he can read his thoughts. "If anything comes up. I'll manage it." 

Ashley coos, probably thinking they are talking about work or child rearing or something that isn't punching her in the face, wrecking the equipment, and fleeing from the clinic. Tim thinks Ashley's nice; he hopes they don't have to do that. 

The lights are dimmed. Tim grips the table with both hands like it might move around. "We got gel warmers," Ashley tells him chipperly as she squirts the gel onto his stomach. It is warm and it feels a little grosser for that fact. But Tim forgets that as the ultrasound wand touches his stomach. 

He's seen ultrasounds before, obviously. He even remembers accompanying Steph to one. He sees the shape of his uterus and, inside, an oblong area of shadow. Then there are two blobs, connected enough that Tim realizes it's one being after his brain irrationally processes it as twins and he nearly screams. He doesn't understand what he's seeing at first. He stares, wide-eyed, as Ashley pulls the screen closer. "They look kind of weird at this stage," She agrees. "That's the head." Her finger traces the outline of the first blob. "The trunk of the body kind of has the same shape..." She indicates the second blob. Tim hears Jason release a relieved breath. He'd thought it was two separate embryos as well, apparently. "I'm taking the measurements now." 

Tim watches the lines appear on the screen and the momentary freezing of the picture as she takes each measurement. It feels entirely surreal. The more he looks, the more he can see a human shape. A head, a nose, the neck. He can't see arms or legs at first, and then only the legs, tucked up against the torso. "Can I get a copy of those images?" Tim asks and his voice seems far away. 

"Feel free to take pictures of the screen," Ashley offers. "I'll print you out a couple before you leave.

Tim's fingers can't find his phone. He's not sure he wants them to, anyway. 

"There we go," Ashley says at last, poking him in the lower stomach. Tim doesn't feel anything else but he sees the results; a flutter of movement from the fetus inside him. An arm lifts away and he can see the outline of a hand. He's not aware he's making a sound until both Ashley and Jason are staring at him. 

It's high pitched and whining. A purely omega sound that humiliates him and he cuts it off abruptly. He knows it's a sound young omegas make when they need comfort and it's definitely something he should have outgrown doing a decade ago. Jason looks alarmed but he reaches out, responding to it. His fingers brush Tim's hair and Ashley's voice drops to soothing levels. 

"Everything is looking fine so far. Don't worry. Everything with the baby is reading as normal. You're looking right at twelve weeks and a few days." She's mistaking the noise, the panic, for fear of the baby not being alright. "I know he or she looks a bit strange but they're only a little over six centimeters long! This makes them look bigger." 

Tim can't breathe. His chest is tight and his throat is closing up. He just nods. Ashley goes back to the screen, to the wand, but Tim feels like he's suffocating. "Just one more...there we go. There's the heartbeat." She turns a dial and the sound fills the room. Fast, impossibly fast. A heartbeat underwater. "162 beats per minute. Normal." She keeps using that phrase. Normal. Like any of his life can be normal. 

"Hey," Jason says, trying to draw his attention. "Breathe. Blink. Do something." 

He tries to breathe. It comes out as a wheezing, pitiful sound. Ashley jerks the wand away and the noise stops, leaving them in what feels like silence except for Tim's strained breaths. Jason all but bodily lifts him off the table, rolling him to a seated position. "Head between your legs," He orders, fingers going to his neck and Tim jolts at that. "Just taking your pulse," He murmurs. "Come on. Breathe." 

"Is he allergic to anything?" Ashley asks. She's frantic, probably not used to having anyone start hyperventilating on her table. "I'm going to get someone!" She bolts out of the room and Tim would laugh if black spots weren't dancing across his vision. 

"Tim," Jason says now that they're alone. Tim tries to lift his head and Jason pushes it firmly back down. "Breathe, Tim. Steady. Breathe in for five seconds. One...two..." Jason counts it down. Tim obeys. "Hold for five. Then out for five." 

They go through a couple of cycles and Tim feels less like he might pass out. He swallows back an obscene amount of saliva, finally lifting himself enough to see Jason's face. He's worried. Tim sucks at being the strong one, too. Jason's prone to panic attacks. Tim knows it. He's read it in his files. He's seen the bloody results of it. He didn't need to see someone who hasn't been buried alive or resurrected via psychotic pit juice have a melt down. "I'm good. I'm good now," Tim repeats. 

Jason looks unconvinced. "What was that?" He asks. "Anything in particular or...?"

"Everything in particular," Tim answers and presses the heels of his hands against his cheekbones. "It just hit me all at once. I'm sorry." He frowns. "I really have to pee. Do you think I can go?"

That gets a snort from Jason as he helps Tim to his feet about the time Ashley returns with Carla. "I'm fine," Tim announces. "Just thought I was going to be sick and it freaked me out a little." 

The Wayne Enterprises smile might not fool Jason, but it convinces Carla and Ashley well enough. Carla insists on escorting them back to the exam room and Ashley promises him a few extra pictures for being so brave. He thinks he sees Dr. Grace hovering in the next hallway, ready to jump in if necessary but he doesn't even feel shaky. "Sorry," He apologizes again to Carla but she waves him off. 

"The funny thing with pregnancy is you never know how you're going to react," She tells him kindly as she takes his blood pressure yet again. "I couldn't even pass a hamburger place without getting sick all over again. The doctor couldn't perform any c-sections his entire first trimester. A doctor,  fainting at the sight of blood!" She laughs and Tim laughs with her, filing away the fact that his doctor has at least one child. He's not sure what to do with that information but it's somehow reassuring. A male omega in medicine is decently rare, after all. Most omegas at least tend to go into a field relating to omegas themselves.

There isn't time for him and Jason to speak again before Carla hands him a cup and tells him to go pee in it. Tim thinks he's going to have to get used to that but he kicks Jason in the ankle on the way to the bathroom simply because it makes him feel better.

Dr. Grace is waiting by the time he's back and, blessedly, the man doesn't say anything about his prior incident except to suggest Tim tell him if he gets shaky again. He shares the story about fainting at a c-section when he was pregnant with his first, who is now close to thirty years old. Jason looks a little disgusted. Tim is impressed.

"You're underweight," Dr. Grace notes as he flips through the chart. "But you're still in great shape. Your resting heart rate this time makes me think you're an athlete?"

Tim nods. It's easier than admitting to anything else. "I run," He offers. Jason nods like he's backing him up. It's not a lie, technically. 

"That's great," Dr. Grace replies. "But either cut down on how far you run or eat more. You've lost five pounds and even if your muscle condition is great, you need more fat. Have you been experiencing morning sickness?"

Tim nods. "More like all day every day sickness, but yes. I'll try to eat more when I don't feel like it's going to come back up." 

"Milkshakes," Dr. Grace advises gravely, but there's a kind of amusement in his brown eyes. "I'll give you some recipes with you but load them up with something nutritious. They're easy to digest and a calorie bomb. Unfortunately morning sickness can last another month or so." Tim is trying not to think about how to bring a milkshake on patrol and how he can cut down the amount of running done on said patrol. 

"You'll have your lab results by Friday," The doctor continues. "When did you have your spleen removed?" 

Tim hesitates. Jason supplies "Five years ago," And it makes Tim jump. He hadn't thought Jason was even listening. Or that he remembered when Tim had lost a bodily organ. "Trauma-related. Car crash." Or an assassin's sword through the gut. Whichever. 

Dr. Grace takes a long look at Jason, attention shifting back toward Tim. He was attractive, Tim thought. Short enough to make Tim feel better about his own stature, with hair the same honey color of his eyes and very long eyelashes. He was a bit soft around the middle and Tim wonders how long it's been since he's had a baby if the older one is almost thirty. There are a few studies linking a past splenectomy with preterm birth but at your age and in your condition that shouldn't be a concern. Get a flu shot and try to avoid any infectious agents. I wouldn't suggest daily antibiotics though I might recommend them during labor but we have time to figure that out." 

It's reassuring. It's a lot to absorb. Tim nods dumbly because, honestly, not having a spleen hadn't really affected his life all that much except he tended to pop antibiotics more often than he used to. "Great," Dr. Grace continues. "I noticed you had questions about having a CVS or amnio? The choice is yours but unless you're at a high risk for genetic abnormalities then I wouldn't suggest either. You're young enough and unless you have a close family member who has experienced problems..."

That, at least, gets Tim's tongue to work. "I want to be sure," He replies. He won't be having it done here. He knows the risk of miscarriage and infection and he knows those drop the more someone has performed the procedure. "I also would like a paternity test done from the results." 

If Jason bristles at that, Tim can't tell. He's staring steadily at the doctor, trying not to show any embarrassment or shame. 

Dr. Grace frowns just a little, pulling the rolling seat toward Tim. "It's expensive. Insurance won't cover the test unless it's necessary from a medical standpoint and most doctors won't even do a paternity test unless the court orders it. It's much simpler to prove paternity when the baby is born." 

Tim shakes his head. He doesn't want to blow his cover, because cost really is no object to him. "I want to know. There could be some health issues depending on the paternity." He hesitates a moment. “It's possible the father is another omega.” 

Dr. Grace looks a little perturbed at that. "CVS will have to be done before fourteen weeks. If you're looking for neural tube defects, an amniocentesis would be the way to go. You can also do a blood screening beforehand. But I'll tell you, Mr. Plum, that I wouldn't perform either test if it was only to find out the paternity. The risk of miscarriage isn't large but it's still there, as is the risk of infection." Dr. Grace looks serious. Tim doesn't dare look at Jason, who has been silent through this conversation. 

"I'll keep that in mind," Tim says at last. He will. He doesn't particularly relish the idea of having anything sharp jammed through is abdomen or his cervix. Bruce might have an idea of what to expect from a child with two omega parents but to pick his brain, Tim is going to have to at least send up a red flag that something strange is going on. "Is there anything else?"

Dr. Grace shakes his head. "You can collect your information packet at the front desk. Someone will call you with your lab results but if you have any questions before then, feel free to call." 

He exits the room and Tim starts to stand to put his jacket back on. "Are you going to kill him with the candlestick in the conservatory?" Jason asks and Tim stares at him. "I mean, I know you got demoted from being a professor but that's no reason to go after someone in the kitchen with the rope." 

Tim realizes then that Jason is referring to the board game Clue and groans, elbowing him when he comes close enough. It does relieve the tension and he feels the ache in his back from holding his shoulders so tensely during their conversation. 

He blows out a noisy breath, stiffening again shen Jason's hands are on his shoulders. He turns, startled, and Jason offers him a smile that is maybe a little hurt. "Wasn't trying to scare you. I have better sense than to throttle you in a doctor's office."

"It wasn't that. Just...I was in my head, you know?"

"More than you realize." 

Tim pays the bill in cash and collects his information and a 'new parents' bag that seems to be a variety of promotional material. The girl at the front desk eyes Jason up with a clearly interested look and Tim almost snorts. Picking up someone accompanying an omega to a prenatal appointment might not be the best way to go but he wishes her luck. 

Before they get on the road, Jason pulls through a fast food place. "What do you want?"

Tim shakes his head. "I'm good. I don't want anything." 

Jason glances over at him critically. "You're getting a fucking milkshake, kid. Maybe some fries. I don't think you'll stop going on patrol and you probably burned a day's worth of calories having your freak out in there."

Tim is cowed to silence as they pull up to the order box. "Chocolate, please," He murmurs at last. "Small fries." He hopes Jason will let him get away with that. He can probably hide some of the fries in the pocket of the seat on their way back. 

Jason orders. It's only when the food is in the car that Tim realizes he's absolutely starving. Lunch feels like it was a long time ago. He inhales the milkshake, which isn't the best he has but isn't the worst, and is halfway through his fries before realizing Jason had handed him a large carton of them. 

"You're going to make me fat," He tells Jason around the mouthful of fried potato he's currently trying to chew. He feels eating in the car removes any requirement for manners.

"I'll stop feeding you when you stop running marathons at night," Jason answers. "I'm so proud of my little Olympian, by the way." 

"He said I was an _athlete_ , not an Olympian." Tim stretches a little in the seat, quiet for a moment. "This is real," He says at last in a voice that feels too small to make this announcement. "I'm having a baby." 

Jason doesn't seem to know what to say to that but he's saved for a moment as he merges into traffic, swearing colorfully at someone who won't let him into the lane he needs. "What chances of miscarriage are you looking at for the tests?" And it seems harsh, at first, until Tim realizes that Jason is worried. Actually worried about him and this situation. 

"Half a percent to two percent. Because miscarriages can spontaneously occur at that stage it's sometimes difficult to tell what was caused by the procedure and what wasn't." He tries to sound casual about it. "I don't even think the infection risk is that high even without a spleen. It's higher for the cervical CVS so I might wait and opt for the amniocentisis. I guess I have a week to decide." His life is being measured in weeks now. He's not sure how to feel about that.

"I'm not telling you what to do," Jason prefaces. "But is it that important? Is it just to find out the father? Tell me what goes on in that pretty little head." 

Tim isn't sure he wants to. He's not sure he knows how to vocalize the circles his mind spins in. He slurps up the last of his milkshake. "It would be nice to know if anything was wrong. But I want to know what to expect. If it's yours that might cause some genetic issues. Plus, I don't want you to feel obligated to stay with me through this and then it isn't even your kid." 

Jason shakes his head. "What if I want to stay? Even if I know it's not my kid?" He questions. 

Tim turns to look at him, breath caught in his chest again. At least this time he doesn't think it's a panic attack. "What-" But he's cut off by the insistent ring of his cell phone. He'd had it shut off for the appointment and expected a million voicemails from Damian. He glances down, seeing it's Bruce calling. He sighs. "Sorry. I have to take this before the batmobile is on our tail." He pauses a moment before answering. "Hello Bruce. How is London?"

"Paris, actually. There was only a brief stop in London," Bruce answers and Tim is relieved enough he could cry. Bruce doesn't banter when he's angry. Bruce wouldn't be telling him where he was if there were an issue. "I should be back in Gotham by tomorrow morning. I'd like you to help me lay some preliminaries for a meeting. Do you have one o'clock available?"

It's a little bizarre. Typically Bruce simply arrives in the morning and tells him what time to be in his office. "I do."

"I'll see you then," Bruce answers. "Have a nice evening." 

"You too." Tim glances at the clock. "Actually, isn't it the middle of the night over there?"

Bruce disconnects in response. Tim sighs. Usually Bruce doesn't mix Wayne Enterprises Business with Batman business, but apparently the phone call was allowable. Jason makes a questioning noise. "He wants to have a meeting at one," Tim informs him. 

"He knows, then?" Jason asks because they are familiar with Bruce's ways of interrogation and trying to get information out of any of his sons. 

"He knows something," Tim amends. "No doubt Damian was on the phone screeching at him within thirty seconds. But I don't think even Batman could figure this out yet." This being his stomach, where Tim is resting his palm. He thinks he might feel a little swell but that's more than likely the milkshake and fries he just inhaled. 

"He'll smell it on you," Jason offers, ever the voice of optimism. "Brat will probably smell it on you first. He has the nose of a bloodhound, somehow." 

"It's because the olfactory senses are more sensitive in children. It's how they find their parents in the pack and how they know when to hide if emotions are running high." Not that Damian ever seemed to use his to do either. "He's still immature. He'll lose the ability as he gets older, more than likely." 

"I'm sure he'll love to hear that he's immature and losing an ability." Jason grins. "Actually, where am I taking you? If it's back to Wayne Enterprises we may need to stop for a few grenades." 

That gets a quick laugh from Tim. It's nice to have someone on his side against Damian. Usually Alfred is his only ally on that front. "Just to get my car. Then I'll probably catch a nap and get ready for patrol since Bruce is out for the night." 

"You have to stick dinner in there somewhere, baby bird," Jason notes. "Do you want me to bring something by to you before you go out?"

It's an omega thing to want to make sure everyone is fed. Jason might hate that part of himself but Bruce has a nesting instinct to rival any omega in the world and Tim would put money on it. A lot of money. "You don't have to," Tim protests instantly. He can take care of himself and it's a lot of effort for Jason to go to. His apartment is a far cry from where Jason usually keeps a safehouse. 

Jason rolls his eyes as he pulls into the parking garage Tim uses and keys in his access code. Tim probably should question how he knows it and ask to have it changed. "I know I don't have to do anything. I'll swing by early and we can eat and get suited up. Sound good?"

It sounds intimate. Getting dressed in his Red Robin gear with someone else around has always felt strange. He always things he feels Bruce's eyes disapprovingly on him when he does it in the cave and he rarely has people in his apartment when he  needs to get suited up. "That's good," He agrees. "I need someone to wake me up anyway." 

Jason leans toward him as he opens the door, sedan idling near his own vehicle. Tim leans close to him without thinking and is surprised when Jason rubs his cheek against his jaw, pressing his face to his neck and scenting him there as well. It isn't something done in polite society any more. It's like necking in the backseat of a car, nearly. "See you tonight." 

Tim grabs the bag from the doctor's office and narrowly makes it out of the car without tripping.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason takes care of Tim at home and Tim doesn't take care of himself on patrol. Things go horribly wrong and Jason has to tell the secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised you action, right? Well if I didn't I'm promising it to you now. Don't get used to it. Warnings this chapter for vague mentions of vomiting, a pregnant person in peril, and that's about it! Thanks for reading and thanks for the suggestions on future ideas you'd like to see that you've been leaving in the comments!

That night when gets back from patrol he doesn't quite pass out. He's not sure if it's the result or getting more rest or the fact he's slipped into the second trimester, but he's pleased either way. He roots through the new parents bag. 

There were lists: safe medications to take, foods to avoid, common but concerning pregnancy symptoms. There was some information about the tests he'd requested and, true to Dr. Grace's word, a few sheets of recipes for various healthy but calorie dense drinks. 

Then, tucked into a folder, he sees the pictures Ashley promised to print out of the ultrasound. He sees the little figure that appears almost alien in grainy black and white and gray. His fingers trace the contours of the head and body and for a moment he thinks it might have a tail no one told him about until he realizes it's the fetal pole. Then he spends ten minutes researching fetal pole theory to try to tell the sex of the developing baby. The pole is nearly straight out from the spine. 

It's a lot to take in. He's torn between excitement and a very real, very horrifying feeling that he doesn't want this. His body is going to change without his say so. His life is going to be irreparably altered, no matter what happens. 

What if Jason leaves? What if Tim can't handle a baby? What if the baby isn't healthy enough to come to term? What if it does? What if Lucas wants a more active part in the child's life? In Tim's?

His mind spins in circles until his chest burns with the need to draw in deep breathes. He sits on the floor with his head between his knees once again. 

He eventually crawls into bed with the information, reading until he falls asleep. He still has the meeting with Bruce tomorrow, after all, and probably a million annoying questions to deal with from Damian. 

Well, he would have if he hadn't had the morning sickness from hell that actually arrived the following morning. And the morning after that. He barely makes it out of his apartment for a few days and goes pretty much off the grid. 

~*~*~

Tim is leaning his face against the cool porcelain of the bathtub when Jason finds him. He's shirtless and flushed a bright pink, sweat clinging to his skin like he just escorted Bane back to Arkham and had to go hunt Killer Croc immediately afterward. "Just let me die," Tim tells him when he starts forward into the smell of sick and misery. "I think I'm throwing up pieces of my stomach."

It honestly wouldn't surprise Jason. Tim's been doing a great job of keeping pregnancy symptoms under wraps for the most part but the debilitating nausea couldn't be contained and refused to be denied. Jason didn't like to think of why it was so, just that Tim was sick. "You know, a while ago I might have been happy to do that," Jason tells him as he wets a washcloth and starts to pat the cool fabric over Tim's neck and chest. 

"You always do that," Tim replies, shutting his eyes and rolling his face to the other cheek and a cooler part of the bathtub. "Always want to bring that up. Remind me. I'm still not going to throw you out." 

Jason really has nothing to say to that, and he can't find it in himself to kick a man while he's down. Or pregnant. Or incapacitated by nausea. "How exactly are you managing patrol like this?"

That stirs Tim a little and he sits up, pausing to dry heave a few times before he gets control of himself once again. "Drugs," He admits and glares at Jason when he frowns. "I know what I'm doing. Ginger didn't work. Or peppermint. Or B6. Checked what I take for safety but there's only so much you can do without knocking yourself unconscious." 

Tim looks like he wants to be knocked unconscious. 

"Are you done?" Jason asks, gesturing at the toilet. Tim nods and Jason helps him to his feet, letting him hobble to the sink to wash his mouth out. "You have a couple of hours before patrol and fortunately I know just how to cure your case of vomit-itis."

"Don't joke," Tim says raggedly as he dabs his face dry. "I would sacrifice a cat to Satan himself if this would stop." 

"Fortunately no sacrifices of Alfred to Damian will be necessary," Jason replies and makes certain Tim actually gets to his bed without having to crawl his way there. Lately Tim's been realizing how badly he needs to dust under some of his furniture as he crawls his way around his apartment, too exhausted to stand. "I do have to run out, though. Can you hold it together for ten minutes until I get back?"

Tim makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a whimper as his arm goes over his eyes but he says, "Yes."

Jason makes it the fastest trip to the store he can. Tim is, fortunately, still where he left him though he's down to only his underwear by the time Jason gets back into the apartment. 

"If any omegas near me say they want to be pregnant I'm going to tell them how they'll end up," Tim tells him in a tone that is trying for some humor but sounds currently pathetic "Naked and throwing up and crying." 

"You're not crying," Jason offers hopefully. He's mostly in the kitchen to prepare his purchases, so really it's just wishful thinking because he can't see Tim.

"I'm crying on the inside," Tim replies. "If I could just not eat for the next ten weeks I think I would be set." 

That might be testing even the limits of the Batman. Tim spends the next few minutes hoping the world stops spinning and clutching the blankets like his life depends on it. He's been poisoned and drugged. He's been in the flight simulator with Damian and he's actually been upside down in the bat plane more times than he can count. None of it brought on this level of misery. 

He thinks he may have dozed off a little bit because the next thing he knows, Jason is nudging him to sit up and there's a bowl with a spoon next to him and a mug of liquid. "Warm ginger ale," He tells Tim. 

"I've tried ginger ale," Tim argues even though he knows Jason is trying to be helpful. 

"You have to let it go flat and try it warm," Jason answers like that isn't the most bizarre suggestion ever, coming from him. "And milk toast. It looks disgusting but just try it."

It does look disgusting. But Tim knows if he wants to be of any use on patrol he's going to have to do something about the nausea. Forget hiding it from anyone he partners up with; it's not going to strike fear into the hearts of villains if Red Robin is too busy heaving his guts out to give chase. 

Tim sips the warm ginger ale carefully and when that doesn't cause an instant bout of retching he moves on to the milk toast. It's not something he's had before, and he's surprised to find it isn't the tasteless mush he was expecting. Tim knows he's starving, beneath the nausea. He knows he hasn't been taking in nearly enough calories for what he expends. "It's good," He says after the first bite and can't quite hide the surprise in his voice.

Jason's lips twitch just a bit. "Isn't most of what I make good?"

"This looks like it's already been chewed, though," Tim replies. "Alfred could write a book on food to feed invalids and I've never had this." 

Jason rolls his eyes. "It's probably too cheap for them to bother making at the Manor unless they serve it on gold plates or something. I used to make it when I was a kid. We had a lot of stale bread and we sometimes had milk.”

Make it. Not eat it. Tim notices the distinction. He wants to reach out to Jason. To touch his hand or offer comfort, but by now he knows better. Tiny Jason Todd is locked away in big, aggressive Jason Todd with a chip on his shoulder. "It's helping," He says instead. "I might keep at least a foot of small intestine the next time I throw up." 

"That's as much as you need to digest, right?” Now that it seems the threat has passed, Jason gets up. “Eat up, Timbers. The scum of Gotham isn't going to wait for your tummy to settle down."

He starts cleaning. Tim doesn't point out that Jason is nesting, though he does point out that Jason is humming. Loudly, with jerks of his hips to punctuate a change in the melody. “What is that song?”

Jason looks at him with chagrin. “My mom used to sing it, but I'm sparing you that much. Finish your food, or I'll start.” 

~*~*~

"You smell weird," Nightwing informs him when he lands on the roof of the rendezvous point. Comms are going in and out, for some reason, and it's easier to simply meet and give verbal orders. 

"I do not smell weird," Tim argues instantly. He thought he had more time before he started to smell. Before anyone found out. And why is it Dick of all people? He hadn't accounted for him noticing. He keeps underestimating Dick. "Hey! Get off!" 

Nightwing has stepped toward him, snuffling against his cowl and moving down. He avoids any trigger points that might shock the crap out of them both but it's weird, having Dick holding him and trying to sniff him. "Your scent blocker has gone bad," Dick announces, seeming satisfied. "You know it doesn't have a great shelf life. You smell like an old gym bag as far as scents go." 

"Thanks," Tim replies dryly. 

"You're welcome." Nightwing replies happily. "Any objections with the west side? I need to go catch Robin. I don't think he heard me call a meeting." 

"He heard you," Red Robin points out with an eye roll that goes unnoticed behind his lenses. "He just didn't answer you. He does that." 

Nightwing shrugs. "He's a good kid. Just because you argued with him today-" 

"I didn't argue!" Red Robin instantly spits, angrier than he probably should be. "I was going about my business! My life! And the little demon had to stalk me around. He tried to eviscerate me under the table with a letter opener and no one said anything about that!" Maybe because they expected Damian to be a tad more reasonable and thus everyone had simply assumed he was pinching Tim or otherwise being an annoying little brother instead of a homicidal one.

Nightwing has the grace to look a little ashamed at that, at least. "Be careful tonight. The comms are on the fritz and Oracle is running intel to try to figure out why everyone is so quiet lately so she can't fix them just yet. Contact if you're not in by four."

Red Robin sees the shadow of Robin nearby. Visible, enough to be taunting. He runs once Nightwing takes a step toward him and Tim sighs. The key to Nightwing's heart, as expected, is pretending you don't want his attention at all. 

But Red Robin had certainly has Red Hood's attention. Red Hood makes a lap with him. They'd talked mostly about nothing. New shows that Jason says signal the death of any quality programming. What Gotham's villains might be up to such that there have only been a few run ins with them. What style of pizza or cheesecake was the best.   
They don't talk about the baby and Tim is actually glad. It's a chance to rest his brain that has been going nonstop worrying about the pregnancy. Jason is surprisingly relaxing to be around under the right circumstances. But soon enough there's trouble. Close enough to Crime Alley that Jason goes, and Tim takes off at a report of an attempted assassination of a visiting senator. 

He knows almost immediately that these aren't just assassins. They are League of Assassins trainees. The senator's security staff actually manage to be competent, rushing him to safety as Red Robin faces off with their would-be foes. 

“Do we really have to do this?” Tim asks, swinging around a communication pole to kick one of them in the face. It makes his head spin a little bit, but he likes it. He never feels more in control of his body than when he's fighting and winning. 

There's something off about the fight, however. Robin and Nightwing have both tried to engage, but they've been drawn off by other incidences. No Court of Owls, at least, and nothing to recall Batman from his trip to Metropolis. The group Tim is fighting are hard to beat, no question, but the League certainly has more dangerous assassins to send against them if they really want a job in Gotham accomplished. 

“I won't even tell your boss you walked away from the fight,” Tim offers. He's pretty sure he's facing down a woman, now. She's heavily padded in armor and her face is covered, but her hands are delicate and her eyes are lined in pencil. 

“It's cute,” She spits out in heavily accented English. “You think you know what we are after here. That I'm the only one left.”

He doesn't think that. Ra's never sends any of his people without a goal, and they never have a plan that doesn't involve a lot of diversion. You have to look beneath the surface with the League. 

They circle one another. She lunges for him and he blocks her. He takes a knee to his thigh, a fist to the side of his neck, but he gives as good as he gets. She could do worse, or better, dependently. She could actually hurt him. But she's not. Tim thinks he might be involved in one of the distractions. At least, until he sees the crates and canisters on a neighboring roof. They don't belong there. 

He makes a dive for the roof, swinging onto it with a flourish he's proud of until he sees the assassin waiting behind one of the crates. The roof is littered with broken vials and yellow, putrid looking chemicals. 

“This is dangerous!” Tim yells as though the man doesn't already know that. He's keeping watch for the woman he'd been fighting and sees her fly over the gap between buildings, landing with a little roll. “You don't know what's in this stuff!”

“Things that should not be bought and sold,” The woman tells him. “Things no one should know about.” She pauses, says something to her companion, and apparently that's his cue to light up the wood of the crates like kindling. 

The assassin seems to fly at him. Tim has his staff out in an instant, and he lands a few good blows to her. She's fast, she's good, but he's better. He cracks her over the side of the head, dropping her like a sack of rocks. He hit too hard, probably, but he needs to put an end to this as quickly as possible. 

He feels his lungs burn as he inhales the smoke. It hadn't been bad when he'd started. He needs to find the man hauling cargo from the building to its roof. Had he interrupted a transport? Why hadn't they set the entire building on fire?

Tim whirls at movement behind him, surprised when his staff is caught in a large fist. Red Hood stands there. “You've got two more scaling the other side of the building,” He tells him, and then he's off, going no doubt to take care of those. 

Tim ends up in a fist fight with the remaining man. He tries to pull a pack from him, realizing it's a flame thrower. He feels dizzy. His lungs hurt with each breath and he coughs so hard he almost throws up. He keeps his defenses up, but eventually his hold has to relax. The guy throws him. 

It should be child's play to bounce back. He's been thrown harder, in worse shape. But whatever he's breathed in has affected his vision, his sense of balance. He takes a step too far, off the roof before he knows it. He has a grapple gun out a fraction of a section later, before his back slams into metal. 

A fire escape. It knocks the wind out of Tim, it dazes him completely. His arm burns like fire and he checks to make sure it isn't actually on fire, his vision swimming again. Broken, probably, and he can hear the comm in his ear crackling to life, but he can't answer. 

~*~*~

"Red Robin's down!" Jason yells through the comm link. He has to leave the line open since he's in the middle of a fire fight. Kind of literally since one guy has a flame thrower and Jason is making damn sure that guy doesn't come anywhere near him or the Replacement. 

"Where?" Nightwing asks. 

"Fifth and Cedar," Jason answers just as Oracle asks what happened. By this point the woman is probably coordinating medical emergencies all over the city. Jason is tempted to ask her to jump the line for Tim but she probably already has. "Some kind of toxin got released when this shithead set everything on fire. Red went over the edge. Hit the fire-escape pretty hard." 

Jason is nearly frantic to get over to him. He could see Tim stir and at least sit up and that had been good enough for him to turn back to the fight, to keep their asses from being set on fire. The fact that Tim was moving meant he was alive. The fact he wasn't instantly on his feet and back up meant he wasn't alright. He'd taken some hard hits before Red Hood had even come on the scene. 

"The situations are handled. Nightwing is in route to your location," Oracle says and Jason swears as another blaze of flame took out the support structure of a water tower. He dives away and clambers up the platform, hoping to give it the edge to push over. 

It does, but it nearly takes Red Hood with it. The rush of water floods the roof, extinguishing the flames and sending their arsonist over the edge to join the men from before, Hood nearly sliding off with him. Jason claws his  way back onto the surface, turning in time to see Nightwing disarming the guy and no doubt telling him something smart-ass about how fire is very dangerous.

He tries to stand, almost yelping as his ankle gives way underneath him. Or maybe it's his knee. Whatever it is, pain is racing over his leg. He can barely wiggle his toes and he vaguely remembers smacking it against the remains of the water tower as it fell. But this can't stop him. He has to get to Tim.

Jason moves as quickly as he can to the other side of the building, scrambling on his arms and his good leg. His heart stops when he realizes Tim isn't there on the fire escape where he left him. "Shit!" He starts to scale down the rusted metal before he spots the red and black actually on the roof. Tim had made it that far. "Red!" 

Red Robin's head turned toward him but he could tell it was a great effort. His mouth was bloody and his arm clearly at an awkward angle. The violent coughing was back, each cough so harsh that he retched, starting the process anew. If it was smoke it would have worn off by now. He has to get him out of here, injured leg or no. Tim isn't moving much at all and Jason knows he'll have to carry him and that's definitely not going to be fun but...

Nightwing lands beside him. "Hood?" He asks but Jason points at Tim. "There. Get him. I don't know what fucking happened before I got here but he can't breathe after whatever was in the smoke." Whatever his helmet had filtered out. 

Nightwing dashes for Tim and Jason is jealous at how fast he can get to him. He lifts him up but Red Robin can't get to his feet. Each time he tries, he sways, cries out, collapses to his knees wheezing for air again. Fuck this isn't good. 

"Get him help," Red hood says as he crawls across the roof. "Go. Get him somewhere. I'll follow when I can." He wants Nightwing to remember the order of treating injuries and evacuating patients and to do it the fuck now. Immobility ranks high up there with vigilantes but not as high as breathing problems. 

Fortunately, Nightwing obeys the silent wish. He slings Tim up into his arms and Tim goes quiet, limp. Nightwing's fingers go to his pulse and he doesn't panic, so Jason has to assume it's still there. "You don't know what was in the smoke? Anything else?"

"Some kind of explosive chemical vats," Jason shoots back. "Go!"

But something gnaws at him. He won't be back to the cave or even to a hospital by the time they treat Tim. He doesn't know a lot about pregnancy or about what drugs they're going to use. Would anything be harmful? He told Tim it wasn't his secret to tell. He liked having the edge in this over everyone else. He liked having a secret with Tim.

It isn't worth Tim's life. Jason flicks off the comm in his ear and grabs Nightwing's ankle because that's as high as he can reach to get attention. "He's pregnant," He tells him. 

Nightwing nearly drops Tim in his surprise. He stares at Jason at his feet. "He's what? This isn't the time for jokes, Hood. I have to go." He takes a step away. 

Jason swears and releases the catch on the helmet, jerking it away from his face. "It's the truth! Tell them, N! Please!"

Nightwing pauses another second, head tilted. The please is probably what got him. It leaves Jason feeling conflicted. Then he nods, short and direct as he takes off down the side of the building, Red Robin still cradled against him. "Penny One, Red Robin has sustained lung damage. And we may have a little issue..."

The comm is silent after that. Jason has to assume they linked up privately. He takes a moment to lie there and wallow in his misery, feeling for breaks in his leg. He doesn't feel any right off, which at least reassures him enough to start crawling away. "O, I still need a pickup when someone's available." As much as he resents that fact. Get him to the ground and he can hobble to a safehouse but following Tim is going to take some assistance. 

"Robin can be at your location in ten minutes," Oracle informs him. "Hood...did I hear...?"

"Peachy," Jason cuts her off. "Just peachy." 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim gets treatment for various battle wounds. Jason happens upon an evil scheme and worries more. The two of them finally take the next step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter eight already. Thanks for the reviews and comments. I'm going to try actually replying to them, I swear. It completely slipped my mind this week but I do read and cherish each one. I love theories on what might happen or opinions on how the characters are asking as well as what you might like to see. I also have a couple of "prequel" one-shots in this universe that I'm debating when to post. I'll probably have a couple of more by the time this is over.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter include brief mentions of injuries and medical things to help those injuries. There is a sex scene at the end of this chapter. If you want to skip this scene, nothing vital to the plot happens in it! You can stop reading at the page break after "Let's find out."

"Baby bird?" The voice feels like it is coming from far away. Tim shudders back to awareness, instantly hit by a surge of nausea from the pain. He sucks in a breath, wheezing instantly. 

That brings it back. The fight. The fire. Something exploding and the smoke. He's a little surprised that it's Nightwing carrying him. But he had ridden to the rescue hadn't he? "You with me?" Nightwing asks again. "I need you to hold on to me with your good arm. Can you do that?"

They're on Nightwing's bike. Tim is cradled against his chest, leaning up against a windshield. He knows it's built for when someone can't cling to Nightwing's back and he apparently qualifies as injured enough. His arm is curled and splinted to his chest, his hand resting on his own shoulder. He's glad he was unconscious for that. 

He realizes after a moment too long that Nightwing is waiting on an answer. They're driving, but it's a slow amble compared to the speeds the bike regularly hits. He wraps his good arm around Dick, resting his face in the bend of his brother's neck to secure himself. Nightwing doesn't have a scent, but Tim imagines it. He's always warm and secure with his older brother. 

"Are you taking any drugs right now?" Nightwing asks him. "Come on, stay with me. Preliminary questions in case you pass out again."

Tim coughs a little more, feeling the ache in his ribs and shoulder. Had he been coughing when he wasn't awake? He knows these protocol questions well. The faster they are answered, the faster Alfred can treat them. "No drugs," He answers. "No antibiotics right now." Because that is what Nightwing is really asking. 

"What hurts?" Dick prompts as they weave through traffic and Tim realizes he can hear him because of an ear piece. He doesn't want to open his eyes, doesn't want to risk any nausea. 

"Arm. Humerus or scapula." He actually likes this. This is safe and familiar. Him evaluating his condition and reporting. He can detach from it. "Chest. Face." He winces. "Throat," He adds in a near croak. But it all feels relatively superficial.

"Abdominal?" Nightwing asks and Red Robin frowns. Do they expect internal bleeding? He shakes his head a negative and breathes against him, like Dick's skin is a charm against another coughing fit.

He's sure there are more questions but he doesn't remember. It's the lack of motion that jerks him awake. They are idling outside the entrance to the bat cave and Dick looks at him with a serious expression. And it is Dick's face, not Nightwing's. There's a subtle difference. "Tim," He says and he looks so stern that Tim can't scold him for real names in costume. "This is important. You know you're about to get x-rayed and drugged and fixed right up."

He is. So why does Dick look so concerned? Tim lifts himself away from his shoulder to face him head on. He only wobbles a little bit and turns his head to cough violently at the change in position. If they are in such a hurry why are they waiting to get into the bat cave?

"Are you pregnant?" Dick asks softly and Tim freezes. Of course that starts a new wave of coughing which turns into near panic. It was stupid to not include that in his evaluation but as far as _Tim_ was concerned, _Red Robin_ wasn't pregnant. Red Robin wasn't even an omega. Of course that was stupid; he didn't think they were actually different people. Red Robin was an escape that wouldn't work now. 

And how did Dick find out? Tim can't stand to sniff-test himself but he knows he changed out patches even if he did smell pregnant. His costume still fits with room to spare and...

The baby. Tim hasn't even thought of the baby until this moment. He remembers falling off the roof, remembers twisting himself to not land on his abdomen. Protecting his core instinctively, knowing the life it houses inside unconsciously. He remembers Jason calling out for him. 

Jason. It has to have been Jason. Giving Dick a rundown on his injuries as Nightwing carried him off the roof.

Dick looks pained. This isn't how either of them wanted to have this conversation, probably. With masks, on a bike, and Tim an inch away from heaving up pieces of lung. Certainly Tim had contemplated telling him soon. Soon like when the baby was born or possibly on his or her fifth birthday. "Yes," He gasps out in between shudders. "Don't tell-"

"I have to tell, T,” Dick cuts him off. “I don't know what's safe to use on you. What if we give you something wrong and it hurts you? Hurts...the thing?" He looks so stricken that Tim feels guilty. He wants to shush Dick but he doesn't have a hand free to put over his mouth. 

"Just not...not anyone but Alf?" He bargains. He's feeling dizzy again and isn't sure if it's lack of air or a concussion. "I will later. But not like this. Not if you can avoid it." His head flops back to Dick's shoulder and he groans. It's a pathetic noise. He feels bad asking Dick to hide this from Bruce, but he trusts he'll make the right call. He wonders if Jason made the right decision. "Seventeen weeks."

Dick is kicking the bike back up. Tim hears his answer in the ear piece. "What?"

"Seventeen weeks," Tim repeats. It's hard to drag air into his lungs. "I'm seventeen weeks pregnant." 

"Shit," Dick says vehemently. Tim misses anything else since he's unconscious again. 

~*~*~

Alfred is prepped and waiting by the time Dick is off the bike and has carried Tim to the medical table. He hesitates a moment, jerking his head back toward the exam area further back rather than the one out in the open. Alfred lifts an eyebrow but follows with the cart of supplies, listening as Dick tells him again what injuries he's aware of that Red Robin sustained. 

He'd babbled something into the comm. Something about Red Robin being pregnant, he was sure, but he had to keep it vague and swift and Dick had frankly not really believed it. But not only pregnant, he was _that_ pregnant. That's what, nearly halfway through? Dick's fingers find security in the suit and deactivate it as he strips down his younger brother. They've done this a hundred times before as well. The thought depresses him; this is how much they get hurt.

"He says he is," Dick tells Alfred, blurting out his thoughts instead of answering any question. "Seventeen weeks pregnant. He doesn't want anyone else to know yet." Anyone but _Jason_ which is a weird choice. Some part of Dick's mind is still trying to figure that one out. Why tell Jason over any of them? How long has Jason known? Why would Tim let Jason know and not him?

He rolls Tim for Alfred to attach various monitors, careful of the broken arm and relieved Tim is out of it since they haven't immediately medicated him for the pain. Tim cries out at the pressure on his arm but his eyes don't open. It's a small mercy, and Tim probably won't remember the pain later, but it distresses Dick all the same."What can we do? What's safe?"

Alfred looks sympathetic. Dick is definitely freaking out more than he is. Alfred is calm. Alfred deals with whatever punches come his way and keeps fighting. Dick envies that. "I have managed to consult a high-risk obstetrician. Morphine is safe enough if his pulse is strong and oxygen levels remain steady while we set the arm. An oxygen mask would be advisable, however, if he sustained a loss of lung function." He looks down. Dick follows his gaze to Tim's torso. 

He's thin. He's always been thin, always lost weight nearly instantly despite eating at every available opportunity. Tim will always be small and Dick would blame that on being an omega but Jason is built like a brick house. Tim is even thinner now than he is usually. What's left is scarred flesh and wiry, taut muscle. There's almost no fat to Tim except...

Except now that he knows what he's looking for, Dick sees it. A little swell of Tim's lower abdomen. It's invisible beneath clothing. He can barely notice it with Tim stripped to the waist. A little bump between his hipbones that shouldn't be there on someone with his physical conditioning. Dick almost reaches to run his hand over it, but Alfred is watching as he feels Tim's arm. Alfred isn't big on alpha shows of dominance and as much as Dick wants to touch he knows he has no claim to this baby. But who does? "Only a dislocated humerus," Alfred breathes in relief. "We will have to set it without a painkiller until his oxygen level lifts. He's not in danger but it is low."

Poor kid. Once again Dick hopes he stays unconscious as they set the arm because this part of things is never fun. Dick hates to cause him pain, hates this part of any treatment, but he braces Tim and lets Alfred hand him. The bone snaps. Tim screams, flailing uncoordinated at them, but quiets a moment later. His free arm keeps reaching down, Dick realizes. Keeps curling around that little swell like a security blanket. It's strangely intimate. It's strangely vulnerable. It makes Dick want to sink teeth into Tim's neck and worry his skin until he's contented again. "It's alright, little bird," Dick babbles to him. "Alfred will get you fixed up." 

Alfred sets to work doing just that and Tim's condition improves little by little. His oxygen saturation lifts and he regains consciousness. He refuses the morphine until he can confirm the safety of it for himself, despite their reassurances, and Dick leaves him curled up under a blanket, splinted and breathing heavily into an oxygen mask. 

And pregnant. He wishes he could forget that part. He wishes he understood that part.

~*~*~

The kid can drive. Jason clings to him on the back of his bike even if he thinks at some points that his leg might get torn off by wind speed alone. It throbs and aches and getting to the ground had been less than great but he needs to get to the cave. 

He needs to get to Tim. 

He can't ask for status updates, not flying like they are, and Alfred doesn't really stop in his medical treatment to provide them anyway. He always greets a trip to any part of the manor with trepidation but there's only relief as they skid into the parking place and Jason tumbles off the bike. 

Right onto his injured leg. He swears and goes down to his good knee, trying to find the leverage to get back up when Dick is suddenly beside him. Nightwing suit on, mask off. He's easier to use as a crutch than Damian, despite Damian being the correct height. Damian doesn't want to seem to touch at all now that it's not necessary they do so in order to not both go careening to their deaths. "Broken?" Dick asks, all but carrying him up the steps though Jason has to help support some of his weight with the railing. 

"Don't think so," Jason answers. "Not that I can feel. How's Red?" Not Tim. He can't say it, can't think. He's already looking to their usual medical area and tools are scattered around, but Alfred and Tim are missing. It's only been an hour. Are they done already? 

"Tim's on oxygen," Dick answers. "He regained consciousness in route but he couldn't say much. His arm was dislocated but we set it. That's all I know. Sorry, Jay." A pet name. One Dick only used when he was concerned for his brothers. When he wanted the easy affection established by connection. But Dick's gaze is a little too intense and a little too troubled.

"Once again," Damian says. "The two disappointments are the two most injured. I didn't sustain even a scratch." 

That's a total lie, because Jason can tell he's going to have a black eye even under that mask. But maybe he didn't get technically scratched. Damian is a little bit of bluster, though, because he keeps gazing with the same kind of concern to where Alfred and Tim no doubt are. 

Jason lets Dick put him on the exam table and starts to disrobe. Jacket off, helmet thrown on top of it. His pants are trickier and Dick ends up cutting through the fabric and anything else that can't be unstrapped because there's no way his leg is fitting out of these pants the traditional way.

His knee is turning purple on the back, swollen to twice the size of the other. Jason and Dick both grimace at it. Dick's reactions are usually why no one wants Dick to patch them up since he wears his thoughts on his face and no one really wants to know how disgusting or gruesome their injury is, but Jason will grudgingly admit he's at least capable.  Dick bandages him without a word and the scent in the air of alpha and stress is thick enough to make Jason a little sick. 

When his knee is bandaged, however, he's truck by a strange urge. The urge to leave. Maybe it has something to do with the slightly hostile looks Dick keeps shooting him. 

Tim is in capable hands. His presence won't make a difference to the outcome. Already he feels like he's intruding on some private family moment as Dick starts wiping down Damian's face with intent to apply an ice pack to him. 

Will he be like that with Tim's kid? If the kid kicks him in the shins and sprints away like Damian's doing to Dick is he going to be able to endure it with a smile and keep chasing the way Dick does? Jason's always had a soft spot for kids, but he's always had a temper, too. He'd always had a lack of patience. He doesn't want to watch.

He can't walk on the leg. He settles in with his doubts to wait. At least until Dick sits beside him. “How did you know about Tim?” Dick asks, and there's no question what he actually means. 

Jason tries for ignorance anyway. “Funny thing,” He says. “When I died, it turned out this creeper kid knew I was Robin and applied for the position...”

“Ha,” Dick replies. “Try again. Or I'm telling Bruce.”

“That would mean you weren't going to tell Bruce in the first place.” 

Dick looks like he's a tiny boat and the wind has been taken out of his sails. He looks tired. “Tim asked me not to tell him. His father. But somehow you knew. I want to know why.” 

Jason's revealed enough of Tim's secrets tonight. He wonders if this particular secret belongs to him or Tim or a combination. “I'm another omega,” Jason replies with a shrug and the words taste bitter on his tongue. “You know we talk sometimes. He thought I might have suggestions.” 

Dick stares at him and considers the information. He apparently doesn't find it too far fetched because he doesn't immediately poke holes in Jason's explanation. It's a full ten minutes before Dick leans against him, bumping their shoulders together. “I hope you're good to him,” Dick says at last. “Timmy deserves that.” 

Jason chooses to believe that Dick thinks being good to Tim is resisting the urge to punch him.

~*~*~

Tim takes a little bit of time to recover, and he doesn't want anyone near him while he does so. He has enough blankets to build an extensive fort, his tablet, and an oxygen mask at his disposal. Bruce frowns and stomps around a little that he can't personally go check over his third son, but he blames that behavior less on alpha instincts and more on the fact he missed the fight. Jason kind of relates, and he hates the feeling of relating to Bruce. But it's hard to reassure yourself someone is alright when you can't scent them and can't touch them and you have only their verbal affirmation that they are fine and you should stay away. He's worrying. Bruce is worrying. They are both pretending to be entirely calm.

Dick looks really conflicted. Jason is torn between hoping he keeps the secret for Tim's sake and hoping he blurts it out to Bruce at the most inopportune time possible because Jason is tired of feeling like the bad guy for knowing something about Tim that Bruce himself doesn't know. He's also a little stung that Tim refuses to let him close. Like he's some brooding alpha who will try to smother Tim.

Alfred has assured them all that short of a broken bone and some coughing, Tim is fine and will continue to be fine. His lung tissue is regenerating and all of his scans and screenings are coming back with the fact that, whatever had been in the chemical smoke, it wasn't staying in Tim's system.

He'll be bruised to shit. Jason expects that part when he creeps over to take a look. As well as one can creep with a leg bandaged from toes to thigh, anyway. He stays a respectable distance away and downwind, but Tim still scowls at him. “I didn't invite you, Jason,” Tim mutters. 

“A good thing I make my own invitations,” Jason counters. He doesn't get closer. He doesn't touch. Tim is still looking pissed off and almost threatened. Jason knows instincts and hormones run high and Tim's body, at least, understands that the baby had been in danger even if Tim is shutting that part out.

Tim huffs. “What do you want? Other than to betray my secrets.” 

Jason rolls his eyes. “Really? Betray your secrets? It was just one and I was doing it for you. If they had shot you up with something and it hurt you? You think you would have forgiven yourself?” Jason knows Tim wouldn't have. 

They have to speak in code. Not in blunt terms. It's an annoying way to have a fight. “What else do you want?”

"Assassins were gunning for _you_ , Timbers," Jason points out casually. "They were happy to fuck me up a little when I got there but they wanted you. And they weren't willing to kill you." 

He may have been playing the fight in his head over and over again. Wondering how Tim had managed to come out the worst of all of them. "You want to share with the class the reason why?" 

Tim's glare intensifies. He's progressed to just having an oxygen tube up his nose and an oximeter on his fingertip. His cheek is swollen already and his jaw looks like it's going to be painful enough that he won't want to chew for the next few days. "Assassins," He says finally like it explains everything. 

"Well, duh," Jason responds. He can see Bruce moving toward them and Dick trying to pull him back and Damian gleefully scampering around like a rat excited for a bloodbath. Jason kind of respects that about the kid, though he thinks he shouldn't encourage any lust for violence. He bristles, but he always does when Bruce invades his space. He's not sure where to go for a moment; toward Tim feels like a death trap but standing united with Bruce is too much. He settles for between the two. In his own third corner. 

"You know Ra's likes to test me," Tim says defensively. "Looks like another test. He took advantage of the chaos around this time of year to get me alone. We all picked a curtain and I was the unlucky person who got the one with a prize behind it." He looks exhausted and Jason doesn't blame him for that either. Since when is he prone to understanding people?

"He does like to test you," Bruce agrees. "But what chemical were they destroying? This doesn't feel like a usual scheme. It feels almost like an abduction.” 

"Perhaps he thought he needed ornamentation for his dungeon," Damian offers. Dick puts a hand over his mouth and yelps when Damian sinks sharp, pointed little teeth into the meat of his palm. Should have done it flat palmed, Jason thinks, like feeding a dangerous animal. 

"Everyone else was busy too,” Tim points out. “Like I said. I just picked the unlucky location." Jason can see Tim's hand drift low to his belly but he snaps it up, hides the motion by feeling his arm in the sling

Jason thinks, irrationally, that Ra's knows Tim is pregnant and that's why he'd tried to keep the fight easy. How he's not entirely certain how, but it's an idea his mind is batting around. No one knew other than himself, Tim, and the medical staff. But they only knew him under an alias. Maybe it's blind, stupid coincidence. 

"You should remain here until your arm heals," Bruce tells Tim. "By that point we should have a better idea of what Ra's wants and can counter more effectively." 

"Don't pull that alpha shit," Jason snaps on Tim's behalf. "I can smell it on you."

Bruce looks like he wants to argue but possibly the looks from his other sons allow him to realize that he is oozing alpha scent everywhere. He's trying to get everyone quiet and cowed and obedient, without even realizing that's what he's doing. Jason's always thought it bothers Bruce a little that this is a part of him. That he can't control the scent as well as the emotions. It doesn't mean he ever cuts him any slack for it.

"I'm going back to my apartment," Tim says. He wants the safety of only his scent. Somewhere familiar. Somewhere he's built a nest for himself, Jason realizes. Tim has a den and it isn't in the manor any more. He holds up the fingers of his good hand at the immediate protest that comes from both Bruce and Dick. "Jason can come with me. He needs someone to look after his leg and together we would be almost a fully limbed person. Will that satisfy you?"

Jason's heart might be soaring a little. He has to work to keep the stupid grin off his face because Tim still looks hostile. But Tim is inviting him into his space. Tim is accepting him as part of the family unit he's beginning to form. Jason's never really been part of a family since he's been an adult.

Bruce has been doing a good job ignoring him lately. Probably he doesn't want to send Jason off with the currently weakest of their flock. “Not particularly, but I see you've made your decision,” Bruce replies. Dick's tanned skin goes pale. He looks like he's eaten something particularly bad tasting. Jason almost smirks.

Tim doesn't leave room for argument from anyone and when Jason tries to crow his satisfaction he's cut off with a noise nearly like a hiss from Tim. Tim agrees to wait until his blood oxygen level is back to normal and then he would like to go home and go to bed. The worries about assassins can wait until he doesn't feel like he just got trampled by a herd of them.

“Don't gloat,” Tim snaps at him as soon as they are loaded up in a car with Alfred driving. Jason had wanted to just drive himself but with his busted leg and Tim's busted arm they aren't capable of it. “I can't believe you told. And you told _Dick_ of all people. He's a huge gossip! Wonder Woman will know by tomorrow!”

Jason looks a little dreamy and blames the drugs he's on. “You think she'll come by to congratulate me?”

Tim punches him with his good arm. “Shut up, Jason. On top of telling him about me you didn't tell him your role in this. I got interrogated when you went to take a piss! If you were going to blab, you could have blabbed everything!” 

Alfred is ignoring them. He knows better than to get involved with Tim on a rampage. Jason envies him his ability to drive and wishes he hadn't engaged the child safety locked on the vehicle because Jason kind of wants to just jump out. “I didn't know what to do,” He admits at last, softly. “I knew you wouldn't forgive yourself if anything happened to the baby because you kept the secret.” Or forgive Jason if he had the opportunity to save the baby and hadn't. 

Tim doesn't know what to say to that, so he falls silent. Jason stares out the window and things of assassins. 

By mid afternoon they're back in Tim's apartment. Tim had disappeared with Alfred under the guise of personal business, if only to be reassured by the baby's heartbeat. He doesn't want to think of the look on the older man's face when he'd heard it. So soft. So loving. So reassuring that telling Bruce wouldn't be a total disaster when he chose to do it. 

Jason tactfully doesn't bring up anything controversial about assassins until days later. "You think Ra's knows you're in the family way." Not a question, even if he's using a silly term for it. He's putting away the freshly washed dishes. Tim keeps trying to lift his broken arm and grimacing. He's researching what painkillers are safe for a pregnant omega on his laptop. 

"I don't understand how he could know," Tim replies, pausing to lift his coffee cup to his lips and take a swallow of what has to be too hot liquid. "My scent hasn't changed. _Bruce_ doesn't know. I haven't used an alias previously associated with me..." 

It's something to ponder. Jason limps across the kitchen to get a glass of water to take his medication. Unlike Tim, _he_ can have traditional painkillers though he doesn't take enough to really get a kick out of them. 

He mentally reviews what he knows about the assassins. They didn't defer to biology. You were expected to be constantly on suppressants or else. If you were pregnant, you fought until you weren't physically able to do so and maybe a little after that. 

"Your heat," Jason realizes suddenly. "Oh that is fucking disgusting." 

"What?" Tim asks, looking up at his screen with alarm. 

"Ra's knows when your heat is," Jason says. "Or when it was. When it should have been. And you haven't had one. You're not sick but you haven't had a heat. You haven't been out of commission enough consecutive days to have had one, for anyone watching you."

The theory is absolutely disturbing. That Ra's AlGhul knows when his heats are and has someone watching him enough to know when one hasn't been.

"They probably were going to attack then," Jason reasons out. "Then it didn't happen so they went to another plan." 

"Ick," Tim agrees. "But I guess that could have been the plan. Wanting to test me because I'm an omega. Not wanting to hurt me because I'm pregnant." He rolls his eyes "Entirely sexist." 

Jason can't argue with that. "So what does it mean to him if you're pregnant?"

"Probably another factor in his tests. I'm sure he's eager to know if I can function as well with omega hormones surging through me as I can normally." He huffs. "As though heats or pregnancy are completely disabling for people like us." 

They are quiet for a while again. Tim glares at his laptop like it has personally wronged him. "I could have had morphine. That's safe in small doses." 

Well, that ship has sailed but it's something to remember for the future. "Are you going to schedule that test? You said you found a doctor." He feels awkward asking about the pregnancy at all and he's not quite certain why. Maybe he doesn't want to intrude. Maybe he doesn't want to get too involved despite his declaration the kid is going to be raised as his.

Tim looks at the keyboard. "With this threat and my spleen and everything...I don't want to risk it. It's incredibly stupid to not want to risk it; the rate of complications is so low that it feels foolish not to do it for that but the risk of genetic abnormalities is likewise low. It wouldn't change anything, whatever I found out." 

Jason wonders if that's true or if Tim is trying to convince himself. He wonders how he feels about not being able to know if he fathered this child until it is safely brought into this world. Another twenty-something weeks. He'd told Tim he would be but...

"Are you angry?" Tim asks. "I'm sorry. I thought I could but I've already had so many things go wrong I don't want to risk putting one more thing on the list." And that, at least, explains Tim's sudden change of heart and forgiveness of Jason. Jason hadn't wanted to do anything wrong, either. 

Jason looks so serious Tim thinks the world is about to come crashing down. Jason will leave, disappear again, emerge only after the baby is born and tested. Tim isn't sure why that thought makes him freeze, makes him panic. Jason isn't his protector. Jason isn't his alpha. If it's not his kid, and Tim still thinks it probably isn't, he has every right to walk away. "I don't care," Jason tells him softly. "Are you going to get it through your thick skull? It's not like it won't need another dad even if it has a biological dumb fuck of one. Fuck, it will probably need to be around normal people even more." 

"You're hardly normal, Jason," Tim answers before he can think about it but it seems to break the tension. And then he doesn't look so stupid with that little grin on his face because Jason wants to be here. Jason wants to stay with him and he's done absolutely nothing to deserve it. 

Hesitantly, he pulls Jason's face toward him. Jason balks but a moment later he's kissing him, slow and sweet. The kind of thing they do for a few minutes before it breaks into brash and rough fucking to get their needs met. Jason meets him, kisses him back, and Tim puts his one good arm around him and thinks distantly that this really isn't a good idea with both of them sporting broken bones and bruises. "I read that omegas are crazy horny during pregnancy," Jason murmurs, ruining any romantic moment but thrilling him all the same. "You hitting that stage?"

Tim feels himself throb a little in his sweatpants. He still hurts, that hasn't changed in the last ten minutes. But if he's brutally honest he's been rubbing one out or fingering himself to orgasm at least nightly for the past week. He'd thought it was stress and a need to assert control over his body that was changing without his permission. But maybe it was hormonal. "I don't know," Tim admits and that feels good too. Letting go. Letting that weakness show and realizing he doesn't have to know absolutely anything. "Let's find out."  

 

~*~*~  
Jason takes him to bed. It's awkward at best, since Tim's arm is still in a sling and Jason needs a crutch to get there. The kisses go straight to his head, making the world spin, and Tim thinks of champagne bubbles. It feels like they're racing along his skin, making goosebumps rise on his flesh. 

They have to help one another strip, and that's even more intimate. Tim tries to remember they've done this before. Seen each other naked, been in bed, even slept together. But the way Jason's mouth runs along him feels different. More intense. Jason's lips fasten around one of his nipples and Tim cries out with the unexpected jolt of pleasure. Like there's a line now, straight from his nipples to his dick, to leave his sex hot and aching. 

Jason exploits it without mercy. He coaxes each little nub to hardness in turn before biting down lightly, sending a wave of sensation through Tim so intense that he can feel himself leaking slick onto the bed. He sucks hard on one and pinches the other, then soothes them with little flicks of his tongue that have Tim mewling like he's a virgin. 

“I'm ruining the bed,” Tim pants, flushed from his bruised rib cage up to his cheekbones. “I've never been this sensitive before.” He knows it's the rush of hormones due to the pregnancy, but there's still something like shame rising in him. At least, shame until he sees the hungry look in Jason's eyes. Jason starts to kiss down him. He pauses at the little bump of pregnancy, nuzzling it in acknowledgment before getting between Tim's thighs. He's nearly off the bed, his bandaged leg stretched out behind him. 

“Come up here,” Tim protests. “I don't need you to-to...aaah. Oh fuck. Oh my fucking fuck.” 

All Jason is doing is flicking his tongue against his pussy. He doesn't have a finger inside him, isn't pushing his tongue in, but Tim thinks he's never felt anything quite that amazing. He feels empty so suddenly it almost robs his lungs of air. Like a heat but not. Something more intense. “I need you to fuck me,” He moans. “Please. Really fuck me.” 

Jason's head pops up. He has to lift himself up on his elbows to be seen over the little swell of Tim's belly. “Is that the best idea?”

“We're probably having a baby,” Tim argues. “I'll be damned if I have a baby by a man I've never actually had sex with.”

He has a point. Jason, painstakingly, drags himself back up to kiss Tim. He tastes himself on his mouth, moaning again as he tries to figure out how this can work with his broken arm and Jason's badly sprained leg. He's a genius. He should be able to figure out basic sexual positioning. 

“Spooning,” He tells Jason. He rolls onto his good arm, hating that he can't actually touch anything this way. But desperate times...and boy is he desperate. 

Jason curls behind him, warm and safe and enough to make Tim throb even harder. “Are you sure?” He asks, kissing the side of Tim's face. “Do we need lube? Condoms?”

“I'm wet enough to flood the bedroom.” Tim retorts. “And I've just been tested for any diseases so unless you've been with someone...” 

“No,” Jason says and it sounds like a moan. Tim can feel the head of his cock, rubbing against his entrance. Teasing them both. He tries to wiggle his hips back, tries to get it inside him because he's never wanted anything more than he wants Jason. 

Then Jason moves, and he's inside him. Tim feels full, stretched, completely claimed. His body is screaming for more and he thinks he says that out loud, because Jason starts to rock almost immediately. He's wet enough that there's no pain, only a little stretch that Tim finds he _loves_. Fingers can't compare to this. A toy can't compare. He's as close to Jason as he can get. He has Jason _inside_ him. 

Why had they put this off for so long? 

It's intense. Almost surreal. Tim drifts in a place where nothing hurts and all he can feel is Jason. Jason inside him. Jason's hand reaching around him, loosely clasping his erection so he's thrusting into his hand at every rock of their hips. “Jason,” Tim whispers, almost afraid he's going to lose himself entirely. 

“Tim.” It comes as a soft rumble as Jason mouths his throat. And then he bites it. It's not hard enough to break the skin, but it grounds Tim. Brings the world rushing back in vivid clarity. 

After his first orgasm with Jason fucking him, Tim decides he never wants to have one any other way. The walls of his channel clench tightly around him, enough that he hears Jason groan and feels his hips stutter as he fights to move against what has suddenly become a vice. It goes on and on with Jason fucking him, with Jason's hand around him. 

It feels like hours but it's probably more like a minute before Jason comes inside him. His body hums pleasure, fluttering, looking for a knot. Jason only presses in deeper and Tim gasps, clawing at him with his good hand and turning his face for a kiss which Jason readily gives. 

It's how it should always be, Tim thinks as he spurts over Jason's hand and comes around him a second time. He doesn't know why they waited so long. 

Afterward Jason stays with him, nuzzling the back of his throat like he would if Tim were his mate, and Tim swears he hears him humming. He tries to memorize the tune, eager to look up this softer one as well, but he's asleep before he gets very far.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Jason have a fight. It goes worse than expected. Tim tells Bruce the truth. That goes better than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaay Chapter 9 is here! And expect at least one side story? I really like this universe (if I do say so myself) but I don't want to totally bog my writing ability down with it. Still, if you have any suggestions or things you'd like to see, drop them in a review. I love reading the theories and opinions <3.
> 
> No heavy warnings for this chapter that haven't been mentioned before.

“About what happened,” Tim says in the morning as he stares distastefully at his oatmeal. “It's weird, right?” The morning has been strange. Jason was up and in the shower without so much as a touch to Tim. The only reason he wasn't out the door before Tim fully roused himself was that he'd misplaced his cell phone. 

It's not the first time Jason has spent the night. It's not even the first time Jason has spent the night after some type of sexual involvement. Why is he trying to sneak out of Tim's apartment? Tim swallows down the insecurity and fear, left hand rubbing the small swell of his stomach while the right pokes at his breakfast with a spoon. He feels like he'll choke if he eats it and he's not sure if it's nerves or morning sickness. 

“If you want to call sex with another omega weird, then yeah,” Jason counters. He's still standing, prickly to a point Tim doesn't dare get near him. 

“That's not the weird part,” Tim protests. “That was the good part. But this? Jason...I don't know what you want.” It had worked so well last night. It had all been so perfect. 

“What do you want me to want?” Jason asks and Tim has no idea if it's a serious question. “You're having a kid, Tim. Do you really need another omega around? I said I'd be there and I will but what if the baby is an alpha?”

“What if?” Tim asks back and laughs. “Jason, have you forgotten that there is a mansion full of alphas at our disposal? That we could name a beta as the godmother? If anything _I_ need another omega around.” 

Jason is staring at him, a cast of green in his eyes that makes Tim hurt. Jason looks desperate and cornered and Tim is wracking his brain trying to figure out why. Obviously Jason didn't have the restful night that Tim did, wrapped up in his arms. “What if this doesn't work?” Jason questions at last. “What if we don't work? What if I'm not the baby's father and then we decide to stop seeing each other? Do you take the baby away?”

“What?” Tim gasps. He's offended. He can't believe this isn't a joke. “No! Regardless of what we are, which is very unclear by the way, or what we become later; if you're in this I plan for you to be in it for life. I wouldn't take the baby away just because you didn't love me.” He's not sure if he should add 'anymore' to that. He's still reeling, amazed Jason would think he could be so cruel. Amazed that last night they'd actually had sex and instead of securing Jason it has sent him into a tailspin. 

“What about Bruce?” Jason asks. “What if he thinks I'm a problem again?”

“I don't care what Bruce thinks about you,” Tim replies and it feels like an argument hashed out years ago. 

“Which is why you haven't told him you're knocked up? That I may have done it?” Jason counters with enough viciousness that Tim has to look away. He hasn't seen that look on Jason's face in a long time and he doesn't want to see it now.“Too scared he'll tell you I led you down the path of a fuck up?”

Tim stands up fast enough that his chair slams to the ground, overturned by the force. “The only person who thinks you're on the path of a fuck up is you,” Tim spits. He isn't sure where this rush of emotion comes from. Half fury, half sorrow. “My baby? Is not something I fucked up on.” He turns, storming to the bedroom. “Get out.” 

Jason wants to pursue. He wants to apologize, to try to phrase things more cleanly. To admit to Tim that all night he's been playing those expressions Dick made through his head and trying to make sense of them. Jason knows better than to corner an enraged omega in their den. Jason gets out. 

He's not sure why he said anything. He's not sure what doubts started playing in his mind overnight. Sex with Tim had been amazing. It had been perfect. And instantly he'd decided that he needed to make a plan in case it didn't work out? Instantly he'd decided that Tim not telling Bruce about the baby was a slight to Jason instead of to Bruce?

Hell, he would have been offended if Tim had done the same to him. He should have at least allowed him the morning to bask in the afterglow. 

Jason frets on his way to one of his safehouses. He's been culling them, at least the livable ones, the more time he spends at Tim's place. They basically live together now anyway, by unspoken agreement. He's not sure if that will have changed. He's panicking. He knows the sign. Panicking over the baby. Panicking over the affection he already feels for it, and for Tim. 

What if he goes soft? What if he wants to carry a baby the way Tim is carrying it out? The thought makes his stomach roll, but before he never would have imagined caring for a child he fathered like this, either. When it was a tangible, living creature, sure. But as an image on a screen and a bump in his lover's belly? Jason never expected he would be so obsessed with it. He never expected he would want to mate Tim. He never accounted for any of this. 

Maybe, as Tim pointed out, he thinks he's a fuck up because he just massively fucked something good up once again. Does he secretly believe he doesn't deserve this? That he needs to protect Tim from this relationship?

He needs to apologize. He needs to work out with Tim exactly how involved he'll be in the life of the baby if he's not involved at all in Tim's life. The words have reassured him, have soothed the sting of so many rejections, but he needs to know. At least he has all day to practice for Tim.

~*~*~

Tim waits until after a patrol. He's been watching the cameras and managing communication lines since he's essentially grounded until all of him heals up. He's also been brooding all day, avoiding his apartment, and trying not to psychoanalyze Jason's behavior. It's also given him time to think about what Bruce needs to know. It makes him feel useful and this way he can be sure it's been a successful, productive night. He wants to catch Bruce in a good mood and nothing puts him in a better one than dispensing justice. 

Jason was right. He needs to tell Bruce on his own terms. And including Jason in telling him about the baby is something that is only going to be better in the long run. Tim hopes. 

"I'd like to talk to you," He tells Bruce as he strides across the cave. "Out of costume. Upstairs." Through the years they've developed these subtle cues. Clues that Tim wants to speak to him person to person instead of superhero to superhero. That Tim wants to address him as a child to a parent rather than as a protegee to a mentor. Their cues have been damaged by Bruce's return from his assumed death, but Tim is relieved when Bruce nods.

Bruce heads toward the showers first. It gives Tim time to uncurl from the tight ball he'd been sitting in while he definitely didn't think about any of his relationship problems all night.

He sees Damian shoot him a sharp, offended look, but the kid doesn't say anything and Tim is relieved. This is going to be hard enough without snide comments from the peanut gallery. He hasn't told anyone that tonight is the night. He hadn't even known himself, honestly, until Bruce announced they were coming back in. He's tired of secrets, and he has a reoccurring nightmare where he never tells Bruce. Where he goes into labor without letting him know or where he dies and no one is left for the baby. Of course Jason would be there, Tim thinks, but to him it's always been Bruce who is the paramount of safety and that's no doubt what his subconscious mind latches onto. 

His alpha, the alpha in the paternal role to him, doesn't know enough to protect him and it's entirely Tim's fault. It has to be fixed. Things have been rough with Bruce, off and on, but he owes him this much. He owes him honesty and speaking to him like an adult. He owes Jason his honesty about his part in this. 

Bruce gestures him into his bedroom for their chat and he must be tired since he's not taking him to any office for their conversation. Bruce likes to use the desk as some kind of emotional blockade. Tim's been in Bruce's room often enough that it's not insanely uncomfortable, but it's still a little odd and more intimate than he had planned. . He sits in a chair that Alfred uses to lay out Bruce's clothing items and watches as Bruce prepares for bed. There are bruises to evaluate and scrapes to bandage up, but nothing serious. Bruce, once again, is waiting for him to make the opening move. 

No one outside the family would guess, Tim thinks, that Bruce is socially awkward. That Bruce plays a role in most of his life and when it comes to interpersonal relationships he actually has a stake in he's been burned enough to try to allow someone else to lead. "Don't freak out," Tim begins, and Bruce makes an amused sound. 

"You're beginning to sound like Dick," Bruce offers. "But if it's coming from you I feel I should already be a little bit alarmed." He sits on the edge of the bed closest to the chair. Facing down those ice blue eyes is more terrifying than watching Bruce's back as he stretched to bandage his ribs. 

"I'm pregnant," Tim says softly, but tries to keep his tone from wavering. He hopes the odd fear in him isn't hormones. It would make the rest of this pregnancy really inconvenient if his hormones constantly tell him to cower from an alpha. Besides, it's not like Bruce was ever in any position for Tim's baby to be his. He's the pack leader, not a mate. 

Even so, he wants to throw himself at Bruce and beg for mercy and acceptance. Wants to bury himself under his arm or against his chest as he had when his mother died or when his father had been in a coma. "It's getting close to twenty weeks gestation. The pregnancy wasn't planned but I do want to continue." Tim swallows. 

Bruce's eyes have widened a fraction. His breathing has picked up. His gaze has dropped, Tim realizes, to his baggy t-shirt where there isn't even a hint of a swell. Listen to the facts first then look for evidence. He remembers the training. Tim tries to scent him without being obvious. There's a spike, definitely, but it doesn't smell like aggression. 

"I had to work it out in my head," Tim continues when Bruce says nothing. "I shouldn't have waited so long to tell you but I needed to think about it on my own, first. I've seen a doctor and I've been careful in the field. I know it's going to cause us to be a little short-handed but I can at least do the Wayne Enterprises projects from home and-" 

"Tim," Bruce interrupts patiently. 

Tim looks at him, words and prepared speeches dying on his lips. 

"Do you want this?" Bruce asks with a seemingly infinite amount of patience and kindness. Jason had asked something similar. They were more alike than they wanted to realize sometimes, Tim thought. Bruce was an alpha. Bruce never had to worry about this type of thing happening to him. Some said that an alpha would never understand the plights of an omega. But Bruce saw more than most and understood more than most. There was no scent of agitation in the air and Bruce wasn't trying to cow him into any particular answer. It was a relief. It spoke of Bruce's care, of all he had learned with Jason.

Tim nods, not trusting his voice for a moment before he repeats himself. "It's not something I would have asked for or that I sought out," He says. "But I want it." 

Bruce hesitantly leans forward, reaching out. It takes Tim a second to realize that Bruce is guiding him to sit next to him on the bed and he does so. Bruce wraps his arms around him, pulling him close, and for a moment Tim can shut his eyes and bask in the scent and the warmth that mean he's safe. Bruce isn't angry. Bruce knows. He has another set of eyes to watch him and watch the baby. He has the Wayne name backing him up and as trivial as that feels he knows it means something in his situation and in this city. 

 

They stay like that for several minutes. Probably as long as they both can stand with Bruce's fingers petting through his hair like he's much younger and Tim nuzzling his cheek against his collarbone like he's little more than a kid. "There are arrangements to be made," Bruce says at last and Tim agrees. "Do you want this announced officially?"

Tim's considered that. "The child has to exist to stay protected," He replies. "He or she might as well exist as my child in public, too." He'd seen the chaos it caused before Damian was properly acknowledged and had no desire to repeat the months of media speculation and scrutiny. "I need a doctor a little closer to Gotham than where I've been going. And Ra's might know I'm pregnant-"

"Why would Ra's know you're pregnant?" Bruce actually looked a little freaked out and that was somehow reassuring to Tim. 

"The working theory is that he knew when my heats were timed," Tim explains and tries once again not to think too much about that. "So far no trouble but you know how he gets about bloodlines." 

Bruce sighs, because the proof of how Ra's al Ghul gets about bloodlines is no doubt lurking down the hall, waiting to interrogate one of them about their conversation. "Is the father involved?" Bruce asks, tactfully allowing Tim to volunteer any extra information. 

"No. Well. Maybe." Tim frowns, hand going to muss up the hair Bruce had carefully groomed away from his face. "It's complicated and you need to sleep." Seeing the look on Bruce's face he quickly amends "It's nothing non consensual or anything. Just complicated, I promise." 

Bruce looks like he wants to protest now and it's Tim's turn to shake his head. "Later. Just sleep. And thanks. This went much better than I thought it would." In his nightmares, too, there had been screaming. Threats to disown. Of course he hadn't told Bruce that Jason was involved in the situation, but Bruce had to know at least something was going on there. Tim stands to go, stopped by Bruce's gentle pull on his wrist. 

"Who knows about this?" He asks. He doesn't sound accusatory, only curious. 

"Alfred and Dick found out when I got hurt, so they know. Jason knows." Tim glances back to Bruce but he only nods. Of course he knows he's at least been getting close to Jason these last months. 

"Would you like me to tell Damian? Bruce asks. 

It's tempting. But about that time he hears the rustle of fabric against the door. He flings it open, just in time to catch the shape of a dark figure disappearing around a corner. "I think he already knows." 

“He usually does find out these things.” Bruce pauses a moment. “You were dating Lucas Powers,” Bruce notes. There's a question in the statement. “But you've begun living with Jason.” 

He's not the world's greatest detective for nothing. Tim looks at him. He's still not sure. He's still hesitating. Dick hadn't questioned the paternity of the baby. Dick probably thought it was impossible for there to even be a question. 

He hasn't given Bruce enough credit. Tim knows that now. “It was outside of a heat,” Tim says with a little shrug of his shoulders. He doesn't want to have the conversation with Bruce so worn out but it seems like it's now or never. “In a time frame that...that I was with them both.” He hurries through the last bit, half afraid at how Bruce is going to perceive him. 

But once again Bruce only nods and runs a hand over his hair. “Statistically,” He begins and that's one of Tim's favorite words. “The odds are not in favor of it belonging to Jason.”

Tim nods. Tim hates the sick feeling in his stomach at that idea. “I know. But he wants to stick around anyway.”

There's something like pride on Bruce's face. A brief flash, a brief glimmer, and Tim wishes Jason could see it. There's trepidation there too, it's true. But Bruce leans down to rub his cheek on the top of Tim's head. “We'll talk again. Maybe tomorrow?”

Really, it's better that way. He's gotten further tonight than he thought he would. Tim stays the night at the manor and misses Jason what he feels is a disgusting amount.  In the morning he presents Bruce with a write up of how he's not entirely sure who the father of his baby is, and how one of them might cause trouble. It's easier to put into written word than to say. Bruce, in turn, gives him a list of Gotham's most qualified obstetricians and folders pertaining to all their specialties, skills, and sanctions. 

"You don't appear to be visibly with child, Drake," Damian tells him as he starts to the car to catch a ride with them for this morning's shareholders meeting. His green eyes are sharp, obviously focused. Like father, like son. 

"I'm taking that as a compliment," Tim answers with a shrug and a casual smile. 

"You still look fat," Damian snaps and storms to the car. Tim actually laughs. 

~*~*~

Bruce invites himself to dinner that night. It's the last thing Tim wants to happen but he knows he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Bruce is on board and calm. Speaking of gifts, he arrives home to a delivery of the chocolate-dipped fruit he's been craving and a simple note on the table. The note contains a frowny face and the words “I fucked up.”

Tim texts Jason immediately to let him know that Bruce is coming for dinner, and Jason is welcome to attend. Jason agrees surprisingly easily, insists on being there actually, but he's had enough on his plate lately that Tim orders take-out instead of suggesting he cook and calls it good enough.

Bruce has obviously done some more research throughout the day. Bruce is showing an interest in his life. Tim would be a liar if he said he didn't appreciate it. He can at least try to show his appreciation without getting snippy.

Jason arrives first and looks ashamed. If he had a tail it would no doubt be tucked between his legs. “I'm sorry,” He says simply. 

“I forgive you,” Tim answers and kisses his cheek. “But let's get into why later.” Because he needs to brief Jason. That Bruce knows about the baby. That Bruce knows about him and Jason. At that he's thrilled to see surprise and, maybe, pleasure on Jason's face.

Bruce arrives barely a minute later and Tim graciously accepts the dessert he brought, knowing both that Alfred made it and that it probably won't be eaten this evening. He wishes he'd invited Dick, or even Damian. Anyone to provide a buffer other than himself. The fewer times he had to do this type of thing, the better. 

Bruce doesn't show any surprise over Jason's presence and Tim can't really blame him for figuring it out with the way they've been acting. They are probably disgustingly domestic.

But it starts surprisingly well. Bruce compliments the takeout and they get into a discussion about Chinese food, both authentic and less than. Jason speaks less than usual but he does speak, and most of it isn't even snarky. They talk about work but not much about patrol. Bruce asks when he might stop patrolling and there's only a suggestion in it, not a demand he stop immediately. Tim knows the risks, now more than ever. Tim hasn't decided yet, when he'll actually stop going out. The day is coming soon enough. 

Bruce brings up doctors and Tim spends a good ten minutes discussing the research he's done. He mentions the upcoming anatomy scan at which they'll be able to tell the sex of the baby but they don't dwell on that either. When Tim runs out of water in his glass, Jason is quick to get more. Bruce notices, Tim knows he does, but he says nothing. They're all working hard to keep the peace.

At least he waits until they are mostly done with the meal to drop his actual reason for coming. "I've consulted with a few physicians," Bruce begins. "An omega impregnating another omega is extremely rare." Tim knew that. Jason knew that. Jason bristles and Tim nudges him under the table with his foot. "But it's not unheard of and your previous splenectomy might have even increased the odds. But given the proximity to when you dated Lucas Powers..”

Bruce looks uncertain. Tim wants to crawl under the table and die. He also kind of wishes Bruce hadn't given Jason a name to go off of to wreck any kind of vengeance. Jason no doubt could easily find out who Tim dated but this is just handing him a bomb on a silver platter. Jason seems too shocked to actually process anything. “I don't know,” Tim admits at last. “You seem to know Jason and I have had a relationship for at least a year though we keep it to my heats.” 

Bruce nods. He's being so calm about the entire thing Tim wonders if he's rehearsed. He's not used to Bruce being reasonable about their personal lives. He also doesn't think he wants to discuss his child's conception with anyone ever again. “It was right after our break up.”

“I heard that was ugly,” Bruce says mildly. No doubt Bruce has seen even the x-rays of Lucas's face when Tim got done with him. “I was only curious as the physicians suggested a few abnormalities you might wish to be screened for if the pregnancy is the result of two omegas. One of them offered to see you or the child but since she's in Germany I felt it would be better to let you decide if that would be prudent." 

Tim is appreciative Bruce has taken an interest and is guiding him through the turmoil. Tim is angry Bruce flashed his medical information around so easily and butted into his personal life. Tim is pleased Bruce wants to be a part of this. Tim is overcome with anxiety about any potential abnormalities. He's getting used to mood swings, to getting so suddenly and irrationally angry, but he's frozen on the spot and Jason is looking at him to get a clue how to respond to that. "I don't want to go to Germany," Tim says, and Bruce treats it like it's the most normal response possible. 

"Of course. The time for chorionic villus sampling has passed but if you hustle an amniocentisis is still a possibility. Were you waiting until after the anatomy scan to see if it would detect any abnormalities?"

Tim can't find words. Hustle. Hustle for an amniocentisis. He tries to imagine Batman saying that. He's thrilled Bruce wants to be this involved and he's a little horrified. Everything he thought he knew is flying out the window. Bruce is a train barreling toward him and he can't get out of the way. "Yes," He croaks. "I didn't want...the risk of miscarriage..." 

"We would get someone very experienced in the procedure,' Bruce soothes and Jason makes a sound that's almost like a laugh. They both snap their heads to the side to look at him since he's been oddly, freakishly silent through the whole exchange.

"You sound almost exactly alike," Jason admits. "I guess now I know what would happen if B ever could get pregnant." 

It's funny. It's exactly what Tim had been thinking about Jason. It makes Tim smile, makes him feel less like a kid and more like he can handle this. Maybe he's flattered that he's handled this like Bruce would have. Maybe it makes him feel a little warm that Jason is trying so hard. "I'll keep you informed," He tells Bruce, then glances to Jason. "We'll keep you informed." 

“I made an appointment with one of the heads of the obstetrical department at Gotham General,” Bruce tells him. “He doesn't normally see patients at his practice but he agreed given your circumstances.” 

Tim wants to tell him no. But Bruce looks eager, looks pleased, looks like he knows he's done something right. Tim isn't even sure if he can find a doctor in Gotham to take him on at this late stage on his own. 

Bruce senses the hesitation. “One appointment,” He requests. “Then I'm certain we can make other arrangements if he doesn't suit you.” 

What can he do but agree?

~*~*~

"I thought you liked the doctor you were seeing," Jason says, focusing on clearing the table with an amount of intensity that probably isn't healthy right after Bruce leaves.

"I do," Tim admits. "But he's outside of Gotham and I feel guilty having lied to him, you know? Maybe this will be better. I'm sure Bruce looked into this doctor. I just need...something different. To feel in control of what's going on. I mean, as much as I can with a human trying to tear its way out of my body." 

Jason glances up to make a face. "Thanks for image, Timmy." But his face has gone softer and thoughtful and Tim knows he's gotten through to him. All the Robins have control issues. All of them have secrets to guard and all of them have a tough time trusting people. Jason's been to his few doctors appointments and even he's noticed that Tim flinches at the touches and curls into himself far more than he does even normally. "Why don't you just ask Alfred to handle this?"

Tim isn't sure if he's serious and it startles a laugh out of him. "I don't think I can think of anything more embarrassing," He admits, trying to think of delivering a baby with Alfred studiously watching him. "I've thrown up on him and he just wiped my mouth like I was a toddler and walked away. What if my water broke on him?"

"Ew, it can do that?" Jason asks, but he's grinning too. "If you can do that then do it on Bruce." 

"I am not purposefully going to drench _anyone_ in amniotic fluid," Tim argues, which draws another laugh out of Jason that Tim loves. 

There's another pause. “I acted like a jackass,” Jason admits. “I just got wrapped up in my own issues. I shouldn't have done that.”

“You shouldn't have,” Tim agrees because he is through letting people walk on him, alpha or omega. “But in a way I appreciate it. It let me know you really want to be part of the baby's life, and I like that. I like that you won't withdraw your attention from him or her because of me.”

“You're stuck with me,” Jason says lightly. “You shouldn't feed the strays.” 

“More like you feed me,” Tim counters, wrapping his arms around Jason and pressing against him as much as he is able. “But maybe in the future tell me? Even if you wake me up.” 

“You're a bear when I wake you up,” Jason argues. “I got up to answer my phone once and you about took my head off with the desk lamp.” 

Tim only sighs. “If I was a bear I wouldn't have tried to hit you with a lamp I would have just mauled you.” Still, he nuzzles his face in the bend on Jason's throat and inhales deeply, loving the way Jason's arms come around him. 

Let's go to bed,” He tells him even though it's not really that late. “Just until patrol.” And Jason indulges him in that as well.

“What are we?” Tim asks as they arrange themselves on the bed. “Boyfriends? Fuckbuddies? Co-parents? I mean I told Bruce enough that he knows you're sticking around but I didn't have a word.”

“Maybe all,” Jason answers. “But right now? Currently monogamous co-parents.” He risks kissing Tim's neck. Tim purrs. 

“I like it,” Tim agrees. “And I'm glad I told him the truth. He deserves that much. You deserve that much.” 

Jason goes back to nuzzling him, to making every part of Tim's exposed skin smell like him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim has a bad doctor's appointment, makes a confession, and has a better doctor's appointment. Then he reaffirms his physical bond with Jason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter ten and we are almost (but not quite) halfway through the story! I have other things waiting in the wings but I try to update this one more regularly since it's already written mostly out. Thanks for reading, reviewing, and sticking with me for what is more and more unapologetic fluff.
> 
> There is a smut scene at the end of this chapter. If you don't want to read it, stop reading after "their spine is covered" and you won't miss any important bits.

Bruce's name, as it turns out, really makes things happen quickly. Tim has an appointment within two weeks at one of the more prestigious clinics in Gotham. The building he arrives at for the appointment is imposing. The inside looks like a spa. It's all posh marble floors in black and white upholstery that looks so spotless Tim wonders how they keep it clean. No one is rude to him, certainly, but none of them are friendly. The paintings on the wall are of babies, but they probably cost more than Tim's apartment paid out through the year and they certainly aren't portraits of children born here.

Jason, with Tim's blessing, decides to sit this appointment out. Tim hadn't wanted to leave him out of this, but one look at the place and he knew there would be too many questions. He doesn't want Jason exposed to that type of scrutiny. He wants Jason to have only good memories associated with this.

He's always been surrounded by this type of wealth. It doesn't make him feel any more at home here. It makes him feel uneasy, as do the upper class omegas breezing through the office like they own the place. They seem to treat their appointments like they are for massages. They might as well be, for all he knows. 

His first encounter is with a man who is probably a little older than Dr. Grace. His name is Scott Fay, Tim knows. He's researched him and found him to be the force behind pioneering a lot of fertility technology for omegas. The man himself is an alpha. It's a cloying almost out of place scent. Dr. Fay shakes his hand, all but pulling him down the hallway.

"You really should have been receiving more frequent medical care before this point. You should become an established patient during the first trimester," Dr. Fay scolds him as they moved through dimly lit but very nicely decorated halls. “Preferably even before conception, but I imagine this was a bit of a surprise?”

"I received medical care. Two appointments before this one, actually," Tim replies, ignoring that last little bit. "I had the records copied over. If it was too late for you to accept me as a new patient you could have simply communicated that fact."

The look Dr. Fay gives him clearly says he is not allowed to turn down Wayne money, no matter how much he wants to. It's surprising that the doctor is handling all of it personally, honestly. He checks his weight and asks him how tall he is, scribbling the results down on his chart. “You've had no prenatal testing done," Dr. Fay informs him like he doesn't know that already. "No panels for sexually transmitted infections. No physical exam. You don't even have a record of a fundal height measurement." 

Tim feels a little shamed. He's not used to this, not used to his wishes being utterly ignored and his input completely denied. Dr. Fay would probably blame the wish to be acknowledged on the Wayne name but Tim would argue he's getting worse treatment here because of it. No matter how nice exam room the doctor leads him to is. “Take off your shirt,” He orders. “We'll start with the fundal height measurement.”

He obeys slowly, but warily. "I had the blood panel for prenatal testing," He begins slowly, conversationally so the doctor knows he's not trying to argue. "My last physical exam and infection panel was just before the pregnancy so there was no reason to repeat. As it is..." He pauses. His shirt is off. The doctor is staring at him. Not _him_ , exactly, but his shoulder and chest. The bruising from his dislocated arm is still vivid. Green and yellow have remained on his skin and there's a particularly gruesome bruise on the inside of his elbow from a quick blood draw to be certain he didn't have any infections. 

"Mr. Wayne," Dr. Fay says. His tone is soft but it's like it hurts him to speak at gentler volumes. "Is there a reason you didn't want your name known? That you wanted to conceal the pregnancy?"

"Drake," Tim amends automatically. There were a million reasons he wanted to conceal the pregnancy, and his identity. One of them did have something to do with the bruises, but not in the way he seemed to think. "That was an unfortunate accident with the family dog, I'm afraid. He yanked my shoulder out of socket." It's a good thing he's had experience lying about this type of thing, really. He's had to lie a few times about formerly broken bones and torn muscles.

The table is cold. Tim shifts awkwardly to be flat on his back. Dr. Fay brings a tape measure over, pressing to locate his pubic bone and dragging the tape up over his stomach. There's an obvious bump there, at least to him, but he makes another disapproving noise and shakes his head and Tim feels like a failure for some reason. "You're measuring small. You're certain you're at twenty weeks?"

"A little over, actually. I had a dating ultrasound," Tim replies, resisting the urge to slap his hands away or rub where the tape measure is. "I'm sure it's in my file that I'm an athlete."

"You haven't put on weight like you should, either," Dr. Fay says as though agreeing with him. Tim feels that same flutter of panic he felt before, on the ultrasound table. He levers himself up, thinking if the world is at least in place visually than he can hold this back. "Some weight loss in the first trimester is excusable but at this point I would be concerned."

"It's three pounds," Tim breathes, because he knows it already. He knows he should be slightly heavier, he's calculated it over and over. "The nausea lasted longer than normal. I only need to gain three pounds to catch back up." He's almost overcome with the memory of milkshakes. Of chugging them down and forcing himself to hold them down through the first stages of digestion. After calling the clinic, Dr. Grace had called him back personally to reassure him that as long as he could keep a vitamin down, he would be alright. The baby would be alright. 

Dr. Fay makes a dismissive sound. “Your father told me the pregnancy might be the result of another omega. Your results should be documented more often. You know there's a ward to this clinic for inpatient pregnancy care.”

And that's when Tim has had it. He snatches his shirt, yanking it over his head so brutally he jars his shoulder. "We're not done with the appointment, Mr. Wayne," The doctor says as he jams his feet back in his tennis shoes and doesn't bother to tie them. The doctor seems genuinely surprised. 

There's something between white hot fury and panic fluttering through Tim. He doesn't know what he needs to do except that he needs out, and right now. "We're quite finished," He bites out, trying to remember to use a polite tone. Polite, but firm. Never overreact, Bruce had taught him. 

"I rearranged my schedule for you. The entire office had to make allowances for you," Dr. Fay snaps at him, losing his patience at last. "I don't have time for this and you can't expect accommodations like this next time." 

Tim doesn't care. He's cringing at the thought of being examined and tested like some type of lab animal. Of spending the rest of his pregnancy in inpatient care because of who he chose to sleep with. "There won't be a next time. Have a nice day."  He doesn't care how many boats this rocks. He might feel a shred of guilt for Bruce's reputation, but his instincts are screaming to run far away from this.

Jason is startled when he bursts into the apartment an hour later, but he picks up on the feelings Tim is having well enough. He stands up, opening his arms and letting Tim all but throw himself in them, holding him as he shakes. 

“I want my doctor,” Tim murmurs at last. “I don't belong with those kinds of people.”

Jason doesn't argue. 

~*~*~

"You're Timothy Drake-Wayne," Dr. Grace repeats at their meeting with him that evening. His appointments for the day had been booked solid and Tim hadn't wanted to intrude. At last they'd settled for an after hours meeting and Tim is entirely apologetic if Dr. Grace thought it was a medical emergency.

"You understand," Tim says quietly. "I didn't want my name associated with the pregnancy until I was on more certain footing. I'm truly sorry I lied to you and to your staff but paranoia about information being used against you is common in my family." Like, unbelievably common. "I would like you to remain my physician through my pregnancy, but I felt I needed to be up front with you about who I am." 

He's come into the office alone. Jason is in the parking lot, no doubt smoking and worrying after the display of hours earlier. Tim had wheezed and retched and finally Jason had shoved his head between his knees once again as he made dinner and Tim had calmed by the time they were ready to eat. He still didn't talk about it, except to say it's not worth Jason killing anyone over. 

"I can't," Dr. Grace says. "I wish you the best of luck, son, but I don't think I can get involved in this." 

Tim's smile drops. He knew this was a possibility but..."Why not?"

Dr. Grace gestures around. The office is shabby, Tim has to admit. There's fresh paint on the walls and it's immaculately clean, but no number of potted plants or inspirational posters can hide the dated furnishings or the buzz of the light fixtures. "I hardly think anyone with the last name of one of Gotham's Elite would seek out care here." 

"I did," Tim answers. 

Dr. Grace smiles sadly. "Because you knew you wouldn't be known here and none of your rich friends would see you." 

That was only half right. But Tim shakes his head again. "I researched my way here, Dr. Grace. I know you and your staff all have spotless reputations. I know you volunteer your time at several omega health clinics. I know you delivered breech twins a year ago and I know you identified a rare genetic disorder in one of your patients the year before that." There's a slight widening of the man's eyes and Tim sighs, leaning back, resisting the urge once again to put his hand on his belly. 

"I thought I could go a more traditional route," Tim admits. "It didn't turn out so well. You've seen the issues I have and you deal with them. You respected my opinions even when you had no idea who I am in my daily life. I trust your staff and I trust you and I'd like to remain as your patient." He wets his lips and hopes. That's all he can do. "Of course if you still feel it wouldn't be in your best interests, I won't force the issue." Nothing like feeling the Wayne name crushing down on you and while Tim's certainly used it before, he's not going to use it here. 

Dr. Grace is silent for a long moment. It gives Tim time to look at the homey touches. Old curtains. A framed photograph of two children, the youngest probably around eight years old. His children, Tim realizes. Frozen in time. And while it's true the other office had the better location, he likes this one. It's comfortable. 

"I'll see if I can squeeze you in tomorrow," Dr. Grace says at last. "On the condition you try to leave me out of any press reports or conferences or anything like that. I'd rather not be named in the public sphere if you can avoid it. As much publicity as delivering the next Wayne heir would bring..."

“I'm not the Wayne heir,” Tim replies and Dr. Grace looks skeptical so he clarifies “I have brothers.” It's true; no doubt Bruce has him written into the will somewhere but he imagines Damian gets the lion's share and that's the way things should be. “But I'll be sure to keep your name out of any public statements.” He can do that much, if he can just keep coming here. 

~*~*~

The next appointment is much better. Dr. Grace doesn't scold him for his weight, or the fundal height. "Your abdominal muscles are still tight," He tells him with a laugh when Tim brings up the concern. "They'll stretch, but I think you're just going to carry very small. Lucky you." 

"Timmy's always been a runt," Jason offers helpfully and Tim scowls at him. "Hey, it's a compliment. If you got too big you would be overbalanced and I'd have to roll you everywhere." 

Dr. Grace talks about nutrition with him and Tim actually finds it helpful. He doesn't seem overly concerned and it goes miles in letting Tim relax. He tries not to curl into himself when the doctor's hands feel over his stomach or when he uses the doppler to detect a heartbeat. That process is painless enough he can walk into the room for the ultrasound without too much panic. 

It's Ashley again. Jason jokes with her so her focus is off Tim as he situates himself on the table. "Are we finding out the sex?" She asks. "We can probably tell that today, if you want to know." 

Tim has gone back and forth on this issue as well. There are few mysteries left in life, especially to people like them. But he's also a planner. He also wants to get a concrete idea of this person growing inside him and part of that is referring to the baby as more than an 'it'. But he balks. Balks at a stranger knowing and him not or at it being announced in this room, in only a few minutes.

"What about an envelope?" Jason asks, interrupting his internal debate. "She can write it down and put it in an envelope and you can look at it later. If you want." 

Tim's surprised Jason thought of that. He agrees. Ashley squeals happily as she starts preparing him for the scan. "I think that idea is always adorable," She chatters to him. "And gender reveal parties! Cutting into a pink cake or a blue cake! Have you seen the ones with balloons?"

It's a mindless distraction and Tim appreciates it. He also appreciates how the screen is tipped away from him at first. Jason has moved to hover behind her to watch the screen, and he trusts Jason to catch anything Tim doesn't. "I'm not a doctor," Ashley tells him. "Dr. Grace will review these. But everything so far looks great. Everything that should be there is there. Nothing is out of place. Baby is even measuring a little big for the age, despite how small you are."

She turns the screen. It's a far cry from the previous ultrasound. He can make out more features this time. "Brain is good. No cysts in the choroid plexus. Face seems to be developing well. The heart and stomach are in the correct positions and I can see all four chambers..." She traces the parts in question and Tim tries to absorb all of the information at once. "Spine is in alignment and covered. Your placenta is attached a little low, but it isn't covering the cervix. Plenty of amniotic fluid." 

Tim wants to cry. Not in a bad, panicked way. His fingers find Jason's on the table and he squeezes them a little bit as they both watch. There's not a lot of movement on the screen, but she assures them that's normal too. The baby stretching out its limbs before things become too cramped. 

They walk out less than an hour later with an envelope containing the sex of their future child. Everything went perfectly, and Tim feels like laughing now. He'd blame it on mood swings but he knows it's simple and blind relief. The baby's a good size, in perfect health, Tim is doing well, and they are over halfway done with this pregnancy without any major problems.

He and Jason barely make it back into Jason's apartment before he grips him by the collar and drags him toward the couch, legs already wrapping around his muscular waist. "I thought you wanted to go to dinner or something," Jason murmurs as Tim kisses down his throat. "Celebrate."

Tim is all but purring. "I am celebrating," He informs him. "Let's celebrate that I'm not nauseated for the first time in months. Let's celebrate that I'm healthy and I won't get quite as enormous as I thought I would. Let's celebrate that our future child is healthy and their spine is covered."

"Mmm," Jason agrees and starts helping him strip them both down. His fingers dip into Tim's underwear and he gasps. "Jesus, baby bird. You're wet."

"I was so terrified," Tim tells him with a shaky laugh, twisting to press more of his skin against Jason's. 

"Arousal isn't a normal reaction to terror," Jason whispers like he doesn't get hard during a particularly risky fight. His other hand skims over Tim's chest and he gasps a little, bucking into the fingers at the casual touch to his nipple. "Fuck," Jason says again. 

"That's the general idea," Tim agrees. "I'm so sensitive it's insane." He bites his lower lip, pupils dark, and Jason thinks he looks like he's in heat. It's totally impossible now, of course, but aren't the same types of hormones responsible? He presses a finger inside Tim and Tim moans like he's pushed more than that inside and Jason is suddenly so hard he thinks he might pass out which would just be embarrassing. 

"Sit," Tim whispers. "I want to ride you." Jason is happy to obey, shedding any lingering clothing before he sits in a chair that he's pretty sure is only used for this purpose. It's firm enough and wide enough that Tim can really get going, with a high enough back for him to get the necessary leverage. It only takes a few moments of rubbing against Tim's thighs to get himself completely hard. Tim's half hard, dick twitching as it fills out, but below that he's _dripping_ and Jason can't help but press fingers back inside him. 

Tim mewls a protest, because fingers are definitely not a dick, but he rocks against him anyway. He's not in any worse shape, fortunately, and he wants to take advantage of that fact. He can last long enough that Jason's satisfied he won't hurt Tim, before Tim is sinking down on the real thing. 

Jason is thick. Big for an omega, and even without the knot it's more than enough to satisfy Tim. Tim doesn't waste time, lifting up just enough to slam back down on him with a keening little cry that makes Jason groan. He nuzzles against Tim's throat, bites against it to mark him, holding on for dear life as Tim rides him. 

Everything feels amazing. Tim's cunt clenches at nothing when he pulls off and it tightens and spasms a moment later when he drops onto Jason's length. His cock rubs against his lover's flat, muscled stomach. "Jason," He breathes. "Not going to last-" 

"Already?" Jason asks and his laugh chokes off into a moan as Tim grinds hard against him. "Fuck, Tim. How bad did you need this?"

Tim whines, a little embarrassed, but it all feels too good to pay too much mind to it. He pants, but it doesn't stop him from twitching his hips in Jason's hold. "I need it," He tells Jason. "Please, please let me finish." 

Begging isn't something they've played at in bed, really. When Jason helped Tim through his heats there was never any of the stereotypical play like that. Tim knew better than to bring it up to Jason, to let his touch linger at certain places, to ever let him think he wanted to be the weak omega. 

But this plea makes Jason groan. Tim finds his hips held still as Jason thrusts up, pounding into him deeply enough that Tim can only manage to squeak. It's a laughably short time until he's coming, spasming around Jason's dick. His nails dig into the other man's shoulders and Jason yells as well, fucking him through it. 

Jason moves him like a doll. Tim manages to get a hand between them, wrap it around his own cock, and he's coming again by the time he feels Jason spill inside him. 

After that, the world is a happy blur. Tim kisses Jason and protests as he moves, body still craving a knot, but settles again once he's curled on the couch with Jason's warmth beside him and a blanket over them. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The baby starts to move. Jason and Dick have a heart to heart. Tim and Dick have a heart to heart. Tim and...okay there are just a lot of heart to hearts in this. And maybe a melt down. Things can't keep going as well as they have, can they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm due to put something else up instead of continuing this but honestly I've been scant on time to edit new stuff and, well, I actually keep adding to and editing this one! So I might just finish it out. 
> 
> Confession time: This story started life as a Kon/Tim story wherein Tim became pregnant by Kon who then died, leaving Jason to step in. It was set during the course of Red Robin and I nearly finished the rough draft with that in mind. As I'm going through it again I'm seeing places where I want to add something or take out something else or combine scenes. If you feel something should definitely be included, let me know! I always enjoy knowing people are reading and keeping up with (what feels like to me) this behemoth of a story.

Tim feels it in the shower. Hiding from his problems under the spray of overly warm water, he feels a flutter of movement inside him. Almost like his stomach growling but not quite. Lower and...well actually the sensation is a bit creepier than hunger because he's never felt it before. He knows the baby has been moving for weeks already but it's never been big enough for him to feel this way. 

He runs his fingers hesitantly over his stomach but the motion comes in a solid wave. A roll? A flail? Tim almost laughs at the image of the fetus throwing its hands up and squirming. It's cute, if entirely unsettling. "Is that you?" He asks in a whisper. His books say talking to the baby is important but he hadn't really found any non-humiliating way of doing it. In the privacy of his shower he can at least manage a few words. 

He tells the fluttering presence inside him about his day and about what they learned at the doctor's office. He tells it about the really good cheesecake waiting in the kitchen and that he swears he's trying to cut down on the coffee. There's no response, of course. He finishes washing up, and with it his diatribe about whatever has come into his head and leaves the bathroom with just his boxers on. 

Jason is waiting in his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and scrolling through his phone. "Acting out a play in there?" He asks and Tim flushes a pretty dusk color because of course Jason would be close enough to hear him. 

"The baby is moving," Tim replies and sees Jason's curiosity peak. "I just...was trying to talk to it. They say you should talk to encourage it to move more and on a regular schedule. Conditioning a fetus feels a little wrong to me but..." 

Jason comes toward him. "Can I feel?" There's an eagerness in his expression, so raw and childlike that Tim hurts for him and he can't even think of saying no. 

"I'm not sure you can," Tim admits. "But let's try." It might be too early for movement to be felt from the outside.  Tim tries to think of the best way to manage the position and at last pushes Jason back to sitting on the bed. He sits down on Jason's lap, hesitantly, leaning back so his stomach is more stretched out. Jason behaves, not even making a smug remark as Tim guides large hands to stomach and presses them in. 

They wait a moment. Tim holds his breath. "I don't feel it," Jason tells him. Tim shakes his head. 

"Just wait. It's not a constant thing," He argues, positioning Jason's hand lower and urging it to press in more to be able to feel through the layer of muscle and maybe jostle the baby in its current aquatic home.

The baby moves. Tim is relatively certain that it is a roll at this point. "It's turning flips," He murmurs. "Can you feel it?"

Jason's breath has caught and then he laughs. It's such a strange sound that Tim jumps a little before he realizes it's good. It's genuinely happy. "You have a little Robin in there. I wonder if it has on short pants and gets tangled in its cape." 

Tim snorts, but he can imagine it. "If this kid turns as many flips as Dick does, I am so screwed," He admits. "I'm hoping for a less acrobatic baby." 

"When the doctor asks if you want a boy or a girl you can tell them you don't care as long as it's not Batman." The baby rolls again. Jason grins like a maniac even though Tim is sure he might as well be feeling gas pains for how much it actually resembles a traditional kick. "That's fucking weird," He announces. Tim can't disagree. 

They stay like that for at least a half hour, until the baby stops moving completely and Tim protests that Jason's hold is going to leave a bruise. He digs his fingers in a little when the baby stops, desperate to feel more, but neither Tim nor his child rise to the bait.

"You'll be able to feel more later," Tim reassures him and he's not sure why this is so important to him. To Jason for wanting to feel or to himself for wanting to assure him that he will. "Like kicks and punches. And you'll be able to do it without your fingers getting so intimate with my kidneys."

"But your kidneys are so cute," Jason argues. 

Tim groans. “Don't you have patrol?”

Jason gives him a kiss before he moves away to start getting dressed. They've become disturbingly domestic and Tim isn't sure when, but Tim also definitely likes it.

What he doesn't like is the sudden press of something inside him. The baby is stretching now, instead of balling itself up. Sentient at last, Tim thinks. He's not sure how aware anything can be locked in a darkened, aquatic pod but it hits him suddenly that he has a person inside him now. Something that will be a person. 

He knows his heart is pounding and he feels a little dizzy. This is real. He's having a baby. Everything is changing around him and he's powerless to stop it. His breath catches in his throat and he's sure he makes a little noise. 

“You okay?” Jason asks, suited up except for his jacket and helmet. 

“I want it,” Tim whispers. “Him or her. I want him or her. But I don't. I'm terrified to give birth. I'm terrified to actually have the baby and be responsible. What about food? I barely feed myself.”

Jason knees before him, one hand on his stomach and the other against his chest. He rubs as Tim shudders and wheezes, trying to ignore the fat, hot tears sliding down his face. He'd heard pregnancy hormones were strong, but this is bordering on ludicrous. 

“You'll feed your baby,” Jason reassures him. “I'll feed the baby, even. It's normal to be scared of change, right?” Their lives were in constant upheaval. A state of constant change. Tim wonders why this is hitting him so hard, but he nods. 

Jason doesn't want to leave him. Hearing Tim admit to being terrified has stirred up some uncomfortable feelings in his chest. All he can do is hold the smaller omega until he stops shaking and his breathing evens out. 

~*~*~

Patrol presents some interesting challenges. Tim isn't ready to give it up completely and, reluctantly, Jason agrees that Tim should probably continue to make appearances as Red Robin while he's able. They agree mutually, and Tim assures Bruce, that he'll avoid physical confrontations and focus on the detective aspect of it. It's what he's better at, anyway, and with no idea why Ra's had his assassins in the city, it's something they need to focus on.

Some nights he feels he has a shadow. A presence watching him. Only some of those nights he knows it's Jason, or Dick, or even Damian. Other times he doesn't feel the reassuring press of family, and that's when he knows there's still a less than loving interest in him from someone watching. Those are the nights he locks his apartment securely and barricades any entrance into his bedroom. Nesting instinct, protective instinct, and he at least has the reassurance that he's been doing it since he can remember. A psychiatrist told him once it's because he never feels secure. 

Time off provides him with too much time, actually. There's time to research what Lucas Powers is doing with his new life. His omega wife is still gorgeous. He's still hailed as one of the most charitable and wealthiest young men. There's nothing about any of his previous love interest, but of course there wouldn't be. There's also time to hypothesize if Ra's is actually watching him and for what purpose. 

Ra's always had an interest in him. Not sexual, at least, Tim hopes not since the fascination had started when he was way too young. Bruce had theorized he saw him as a worthy successor to the cowl. The idea that he was an omega was odd. In their world, omegas hardly held power. In their world, omegas were easily swayed and conquered by the alphas nearby. Not so, in Tim's case  
If watching is all Ra's does, Tim is contented with that. He's far more afraid of people who would be interested in Timothy Drake's baby, not in those who might be interested in Red Robin's. 

The weeks pass slowly. Tim prepares answers to pass on to the public relations team at Wayne Enterprises. He works prenatal yoga into his lessened fitness routine and somehow ingests a milkshake at least once a day even if the calorie bomb makes him feel a little nauseated for an hour or two afterward. He makes a schedule as to how Red Robin can be seen from a distance multiple times after Tim announces his pregnancy. 

The day comes when he has to let out his suit pants, and then Tim knows he has to make everything official. He'd mutually agreed with Bruce that the less time they left between the announcement of the pregnancy and the birth, the less time there was for someone to plot something nefarious. But it was better by far to pretend to be open about it before anyone caught on, and with Tim's visible belly, now was the time.

Bruce creates the press release on his behalf. It's a jovial newsletter to staff announcing the addition to his family and explaining the arrangements that will be made when Tim takes parental leave. Tim rolls his eyes several times upon reading it because it doesn't sound at all like the Bruce he knows. Most of the company eats it up. The press has a field day calling Bruce 'grandpa” which disturbs him to no end. 

Tim never has to speak publicly about it, at least not for the time being, and he's grateful. The question of the father has already been speculated far and wide. The best answer to give is that he's in contact with the father but would like privacy. It might be a lie. Tim knows that by revealing his pregnancy to the media, he's revealing it to Lucas. 

“Do we have to be concerned about Mr. Powers?” Bruce asks Tim as they have a scheduled meeting over coffee, celebrating that stock shares actually went up after his big announcement. Tim will give Bruce credit for waiting this long to ask. 

“Maybe,” Tim answers with a shrug. “I dated him. He turned out to be a huge asshole. I hadn't told him anything about this but I guess he knows now.”

He knows what Bruce really wants to ask is why he was an asshole. Tim shakes his head, so Bruce tries to reply. “I'm assuming he didn't actually get kicked in the face by a horse at some type of racing event trying to protect an old woman.”

Sometimes Tim forgets how perceptive Bruce is. Sometimes he's grateful for it. “Maybe,” He offers. “I'm sure the horse had a very good reason for kicking him, though.” 

“I've met his wife. I don't think she knows,” Bruce replies with a shrug. Tim is surprised when Bruce joins him in the chair that isn't quite big enough to hold both Tim and someone as stocky as Bruce. Still, he basks in the protective embrace of an alpha just for a moment. “The horse will have to kick him again harder next time, if he tries anything.” Bruce considers with a hum. Tim tries not to laugh. “I think he might have a herd on him.”

Tim agrees. 

~*~*~

"I really should punch you in the face," Dick says when they meet up again in the park. It's an easy location to get to. There are plenty of benches and lots of cover. There's also a fence along the perimeter and a gate that is closed and locked at sundown, so they have some privacy. 

"Figured it out, huh?" Jason asks and takes a bite of his chilidog like that doesn't concern him at all. It really doesn't. He's glad to be outside, glad to be eating this cherished childhood food without Tim standing nearby retching and insisting that he's fine. With tears in his eyes. Tim is a trooper. 

From the narrowing of Dick's eyes, Jason knows he didn't figure out the truth on his own. He wonders who told him, and how. He doesn't think Bruce would tell him to be malicious but it doesn't stop the ultimate result. "Didn't think omegas could knock anyone up," Dick says conversationally. 

Jason shrugs and grins and slurps his soda. For a moment, Dick sees the kid Jason was. "I'm an exceptional omega, apparently." He wants to point out that he has potential to even have done it without having had sex with Tim at all but he doesn't think Dick wants to hear about his younger brother masturbating with Jason's come. Actually, Jason would love to see Dick's face when he told him that but he respects Tim too much to do so. For now. 

"But there's an Alpha," Dick says carefully, in the same tone he always uses when talking about alphas with Jason. Like he might snap at any time and, given Jason's track record, the caution is probably warranted even if it is a little offensive. Still, for Tim's sake, for the sake of the baby he's willing to let it slide. 

"Old boyfriend. Did some shit to Tim. Messed him up," Jason agrees. Dick bristles, growls, and for once Jason actually likes it. He enjoys that Dick will get just as offended on Tim's behalf as Jason will. It offers Tim protection. It protects Tim's baby. 

"What?" Dick asks. "What did he do? Do we need to go hunt him down and-?" He stops, head cocking, puzzled by the way Jason has started laughing. Actually laughing, pounding his chest to keep any stray remnants of food from being inhaled. "What are you laughing at?"

"You," Jason replies, wiping his eyes. "I never thought I'd actually consider teaming up with you to fly across the country to beat up some alpha because he hurt Timmy." At least seeing Dick's puffed up pride deflate soothes him a little for having to say those words. "Kid took care of it, though. He's tough." 

Dick nods. "I've heard something about broken jaws and orthodontic work, yeah." He pauses again. He's swirling one of his fries around in the cheese poured over them. If they were going to have bad food tonight, they both really were going all out. "Just...be good to Tim, alright? He doesn't like to show it, but he's softer than the rest of us."

Jason glowers. Dick shakes his head. "Not because he's an omega. Nothing to do with that. Just he's been through a lot and he has a good heart. Kind. Not like us." 

There's a moment when Jason wonders when Dick started counting himself as unkind or dangerous or anything else. He hates Dick most of the time but even he'll admit that the Golden Boy has a good heart, probably too good for the business he ended up in. "You're misled by your heart and you do some really super jackassy things because of it," Jason informs him. "But that doesn't make it bad." 

They stare at one another for a moment, neither wanting to believe that Jason actually just complimented Dick. "I mean," Jason hastens to clarify "You're still a gigantic, overbearing jackass."

"Thanks," Dick replies. He actually eats a few fries this time and Jason takes the chance to finish his food before it gets completely cold. He doesn't like it when the cheese congeals. Too many bad memories associated with food left out for too long. "Really, though," Dick says at long last. "I'd rather you be the dad than Lucas Powers."

Jason shrugs a little. "I'm sticking around no matter what." It's the first time he's admitted it to anyone other than himself. Other than Tim. "I'd rather I'm the dad too, to be honest."

Dick grins. He ruffles Jason's hair and Jason yells because he's pretty sure there's still food on the hand Dick used. That just allows Dick to try to pull Jason into a headbutt like he's Damian sized instead of like he's Bruce-sized. They scuffle for a few minutes, nothing harsh or vicious, which also surprises both of them to no end. 

The relationship might be repaired. Jason isn't sure if he wants to share that information with Tim. If it makes him happy or a little bit afraid or a mixture of both at once. But they part on good terms because, all things considered, they don't have the time to sit around a park for hours on end. Jason resents it sometimes and he knows Dick sure as hell resents it but right now it's beneficial. They can take baby steps. 

"Be careful," Dick advises him as they clean up their trash. "Damian is planning to castrate you or at very least thrash you. Something about Timothy's virtue and his child-"

"If you say being a bastard I might have to punch you on principle and hunt down the brat and punch him too. Against my principle not to hurt kids." Jason isn't sure why, but the idea of Tim's child, of _his_ child being called a bastard makes the blood in his veins feel like lava. 

Dick holds his hands up in a gesture of peace. "He didn't say that. Cross my heart. He said he had to protect the company from the share of control Tim's baby would get."

That, at least, makes Jason snort. "He's concerned about a baby stealing control of a company from him?" Dick nods. Jason grins, relieved to see the same expression on Dick's face. 

"Most people worry about the loss of sleep," Dick laments. "The dirty diapers. Molding your child into a good person. But Damian? Damian's already flashed forward to a boardroom war with this baby."

Jason can appreciate the optimism Damian has. For thinking he'll live that long and the baby will be accepted enough to ever get a share in the Wayne family business. 

~*~*~

The baby starts to move more. The envelope with the revelation of the baby's sex remains firmly rooted to the refrigerator with a magnet, attached to the ultrasound pictures. The baby also seems to only move on command for Tim's voice, or Jason's hand, a fact which delights Jason to no end. 

“Baaaaaby,” Dick singsongs to Tim's stomach one evening when he's at the cave to make use of Bruce's better equipment for a case he's working on. Tim had to quickly grow used to that, as well, however unsettling it was to have people suddenly wanting to touch his stomach. “Baaaaby,” He repeats. “Why won't you move for Uncle Dick? I'm going to be the coolest uncle. Grandpa is rich but I'm fun.” 

Tim rolls his eyes, reaching around Dick's head to type. “Don't let Bruce here you call him that.” 

“What's the kid going to call him?” Dick questions, nudging the side of his belly again with fingers that are maybe a little too pointy. 

“I imagine Mr. Wayne,” replies Tim dryly. “I don't think the baby wants to play right now.” 

Dick pouts at him. Honestly pouts. He's been benched tonight for an ankle injury and Tim feels maybe a little bad for him, but not bad enough to let him basically stick his head in his lap for any longer than five minutes. He sighs. “Put your palm flat on the left side,” He orders and Dick obeys. “Rub. Clockwise. Slide your hand up toward my ribs as you do it.” 

He knows when Dick is rewarded for his actions both from the movement inside him and by Dick's delighted gasp. There are feet, on that side. A harsher push and Tim sometimes feels like the baby is running on the inside of his abdominal wall. It's not a great sensation. 

He appreciates it more when it's Jason. The baby goes positively wild for Jason's words and touches, and Tim tries to take that as a good sign. Jason sings quietly to the baby, or hums to it, and Tim finally has a recording on his phone waiting to listened to. He will figure out Jason's musical habits. “Why do you think they would move the guns in from New Delhi?” He asks Dick, eyes still intent on the screen. “They have closer caches and they have to go through customs that way.” 

Dick shrugs, trying to encourage more motion. “Maybe they needed specific weapons,” He offers and that has possibility. “Maybe they move the shipments every so often anyway and it was timed correctly.” He pauses, pulling back, and Tim glances down to where Dick is on his knees. “I have something to tell you.” 

Dick looks stricken. That's never good. “What?” Tim asks, bracing himself. 

“I saw Lucas Powers today,” Dick tells him. “I went to that homeless shelter opening in Bruce's place, remember? It was one of his projects.” 

It wasn't. But Tim was sure he'd scored an invitation anyway. He wonders if Bruce is the one who told or if Dick put it together all by himself. 

“He asked about you,” Dick adds. “I didn't say anything but the way he talked...he didn't dump you, did he?” There's compassion in Dick's gaze and a kind of concern that makes all of Tim's instincts go insane. 

“No,” Tim replies. He needs to be honest, doesn't he? “How long have you known it was him?”

“When I saw the announcement in the paper for his marriage,” Dick admits. “That's rough, little brother. I'm sure he deserved everything you gave him and more. But he doesn't deserve this baby. And I think you should get Bruce and his lawyers on it sooner, rather than later.”

Tim's been having similar thoughts, but chalking them up to paranoia. “Why?”

Dick levers himself to his feet. Well, foot. He keeps off his bad ankle. “Just the things he wanted to know about you. Basically everyone there told him to get fucked but we all know how to sniff out troublemakers.” 

It makes Tim angry. His blood feels like it's turning to lava. No one threatens him, or his family, or his baby. He can't take care of this with his fists, not officially, but he can make Lucas which he never set foot in Gotham. “I'll keep that in mind.” 

~*~*~

"I want it to be your baby," Tim confides later night. He's pillowed on Jason's chest, a leg thrown over his hips. It helps take the pressure off his back and Jason always lets him maintain the position however long he needs to, no matter how uncomfortable it must make him. 

Jason goes still. The hand petting circles against his skin stops completely. This is a sensitive topic between the two of them. Especially with how stressful their lives have become lately between work and their personal involvement. They're trying to navigate a fledgling relationship and Tim is launching himself into the beginning stages of parenthood. It doesn't leave them with a lot of time to discuss the paternity of a child who will very soon be in their lives. 

"I know it's not as likely," Tim admits softly. "I know that you don't care as much. I know that nothing I do will change what the paternity of the baby is. I know you'll stick around no matter what." He pauses, putting a hand between them to rub at his stomach again. "But I want it to be yours." 

Jason isn't sure what to say to that. He's never considered having children, quite honestly. From the time he first felt a heat and nearly killed himself overdosing on drugs to stop it, he's known he won't be carrying any children. He's seen the kind of fucked up situations parents get their kids into. He's been in those fucked up situations. He doesn't want to risk it.

But this wasn't something he'd thought of. He hadn't expected to get into a relationship with Tim. Or to get another omega pregnant. Even if he hadn't, he didn't expect to want to help raise a baby this way. He evaluated, sometimes, what he would do if the child was born and proven to not be his. If the biological father wanted anything to do with it. More and more, Jason knows he won't be able to live with himself if he walks away.

"I want it to be mine, too," Jason admits softly. "And not just because it'll be easier for you." Easier to keep the baby safe if there's no other party with paternal rights, because Jason is never going to go against Tim in what's best for the baby. "But you're right. I'm sticking around anyway." 

"It's hormones," Tim whispers and Jason doesn't know what he means until he feels wetness against his chest. Tim isn't crying, exactly, but he's certainly tearing up. "I'm sorry. It's just things like that. Things I can't change. I need to plan. I need to be in control. I need to account for every factor and every outcome and..."

"And you can't," Jason finishes softly. It's what has horrified him so much about being an omega. Being a slave to your body whenever it wants. Taking pills and shots to prevent it from disabling you somehow. Heats and cycles were bad enough but pregnancy? It made Jason ill to even think of how many variables there are in gestating another human being and how little you can predict what might go wrong. 

"I can't," Tim agrees softly. "If I need to be well-guarded and protected, do I need that more than I need to be somewhere with access to an operating room? Do I need to have a surgeon on call and put myself at risk of unnecessary surgery where I can't defend myself or the baby? Should I simply disappear for my own safety and hope if my friends can't track me then my enemies can't either?"

"I'll protect you," Jason reassures him. "And don't disappear like that or there will be a manhunt for you." 

Tim shifts, wheezing out a little breath and Jason slides a hand under him to support his hip. The baby already feels heavy from the outside; he imagines it's much worse lugging it around constantly. Tim has always had a slighter frame than any of Robins and that long bout with morning sickness has left him not quite putting on weight he needs in counterbalance. His belly is still relatively small and so far the doctor has assured them the baby is fine and tucked up against his organs. Jason had made a joke about it being a zombie in search of food. Nothing would surprise Tim at this point.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble finds Tim. Tim and Jason find out the sex of the baby. Damian pretends to be a human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels like this fic goes by so fast when I post in it every week! There will be a couple of side stories to be put in this series before the end so that later events will make more sense but I'm still trying to decide when in between chapters to post them! I'm also still adding a few things so thanks for hanging in there. 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter are a medical examination of a sensitive nature, a brief reference to rape, and Damian pretending to be a person.

Of course everything has been so easy up to this point that it has to go to shit at some point. It starts with an ache in Tim's hips. He ignores it until his next doctor's appointment, one to which Jason had not been invited. Jason has swallowed down a lot of his own issues but Tim seriously doubts he'll hold it together knowing Tim is getting a pelvic exam for injuries. Tim is barely holding it together. He makes excuses and Alfred drives him and sits in the waiting room, thrilled to be a part of the experience and asking no more questions. 

“Round ligament pain,” Dr. Grace tells him instantly when he mentions it. “It's very common during this stage. But let's check it out.”

They do check it out. Tim takes deep breaths and stares at the ceiling where there's a very nice poster of a word jumble that he hasn't noticed before. His thighs twitch and shake in the stirrups and as much as he wants Jason's support he's also very, very relieved he isn't here to see this. He's not sure when the last time Jason went to a doctor for anything not injury related was, but Jason's made his feelings on anything like this quite clear. “Everything normal?” Tim asks and he can't quite sit up all the way to make certain for himself. It's lasted a little too long. The doctor has stopped narrating what he's doing. 

“Round ligaments are fine,” The doctor replies. “Do you feel a pain deeper? Here?” He moves and Tim gasps, leg twitching hard enough he nearly hits the doctor in the side of the head. 

“Shit,” He whispers. “Yes. Not normal?”

“Your ligaments are allowing your bones to spread. That part is normal. It's how omegas, especially male omegas, make room for the baby's head to emerge. But your pubic bone in particular is fused. Have you had an injury to it or to your tailbone? Your lower back, maybe?” The exam is uncomfortable, bordering on painful, but Tim can tell the doctor is at least trying to be careful as he presses and prods.

He's probably had a hundred injuries that would qualify. “I hurt myself when I went skiing, once?” He offers. It's the first thing he can think of that is both vague and likely enough to provide an excuse.

Dr. Grace shakes his head. “That shouldn't have done this type of damage. It's definitely something you would remember unless it happened when you were very young.” He withdraws and Tim can't sit up fast enough, legs shutting firmly. The doctor even helps him right himself, which is harder than he anticipated even without his belly being that big. 

He tries for casual. “I'll let you know if I think of anything. But what does that mean?” Better to distract him. Dr. Grace isn't a fool. He's noted injuries and scars all over Tim. One appointment Jason had come in with a black eye and he's certainly seen that as well. 

The man peels his gloves off and tosses them in the trash. “It means the pubic bone is still a little compact for baby's head to get out. The bones could spread a little later or with a little help. I'll show you some exercises and massage maneuvers to help out. But if the bone is as stuck as I think it is, we're probably looking at a c-section.” 

It's not what Tim wants to hear. They've discussed Tim's aversion to anesthesia and painkillers. He's included that he has a bizarre tolerance for them but quite honestly he's worried about every aspect of this. Getting the correct dosage in an epidural to perform the surgery but not hurt the baby as well as keeping him functional enough afterward to care for himself and his child. 

“It feels like it was broken and not properly reset. The bone grew together in the wrong position. You normally don't notice it but now that it needs to shift...” Dr. Grace shrugs. 

“What if we broke it again and re-set it in the correct position?” Tim questions and Dr. Grace stares at him with the look that Tim knows means he hasn't quite made a normal suggestion. He's still learning the acceptable behaviors and that normal people don't immediately suggest injuring themselves further. 

But the doctor humors him. “It's too late now to have it heal in time for birth even if we did break it. If the baby comes suddenly and there is no option you could break the bone to allow space for the head to emerge, but I certainly recommend we try to avoid that and schedule a surgery if that's the case. You do still have a couple of months for the bones to spread.” 

It could be more reassuring. “But what do you think?” He questions. He's surprised he trusts Dr. Grace this much. Of course he'll be going home to do more research but he's finding out that ordering medical professionals to do his bidding isn't always the best course of action. 

Dr. Grace sighs gently. “I think there's time but definitely this is a cause for at least mild concern. The baby's head is up and if it tries to present as a posterior breech? It will be an emergency for you both that could very well kill one or both of you.” 

It's not what Tim wants to hear. He rubs his stomach, wants to will the baby inside him to turn and the bones of his pelvis to spread and his round ligaments to stop hurting. “What would your recommendation be?”

“Surgery for anyone else,” Dr. Grace says with a grudging smile. “With your history? We'll see how things are looking in a couple of weeks.”

Tim leaves the appointment this time with muscle relaxants, instructions for massage, and a video demonstrating stretches. Alfred scoffs at the prescription and Tim doesn't blame him. Not a lot works on any of them any longer. Some years they have to simply detox and go cold turkey on everything available in the hopes their bodies will reset and respond to some type of painkiller in the future. 

The nausea is replaced with pain and worry. Tim still indulges in strong and very expensive coffee at the shop around the corner from Wayne Enterprises. It's a chance to get away when he feels everyone in the company is out to touch his stomach or make some kind of comment about it. He expects that maybe one day he'll run into Lucas. 

Instead he runs into a woman. Young and pretty, with something exotic about her. “Detective,” She greets him softly and presses an envelope into his hands. Before he can respond she's gone, and he's wishing it was Lucas. 

He sits at a table and, with hesitant fingers, opens the envelope. A tiny bottle falls out along with a note. 

_/Timothy,_

_I have been informed of your trials in bringing this child to term. I fear the condition of your bones to be my fault and as my apology please accept one of my best remedies. I am certain your child will be as formidable an opponent as you-_ /

Tim wads the note up and shoves it, and the envelope, and the bottle, into the pocket of his coat. He's shaking. He hadn't told anyone about the doctor's report. Alfred, perhaps, could have gathered what was going on but the details had stayed private between himself and Jason. 

He lets Jason read the rest of the note that night and Jason shakes his head. “Do you think there's any chance his interest in this is just platonic or scientific?” Tim asks hopefully. 

Jason shrugs. “Who knows what he's thinking? We can hope. Short of that first fight he hasn't offered you any harm, has he?”

“And we don't know that was him,” Tim reminds him. He stretches up on his toes, reaching high into the cabinet to pull down a coffee mug. He pauses, glancing at the envelope on the refrigerator that the doctor had given them. “I'm more concerned with how he found out.” 

“Has to be a leak at the clinic,” Jason answers, gaze following Tim's to the envelope. “Did you want to look? It's getting close. I'm not sure you've bought a single baby anything.”

“Alfred has stocked up. Diapers and formula and everything,” Tim answers dismissively, but he's reaching for the envelope. “I haven't thought about it. A nursery. Clothes. I don't even know what to begin buying so I just haven't.”

Jason is trying not to hover, but he's hovering. “I think as long as they have something to wear and eat and poop in that the rest is negligible in the beginning,” He agrees. Alfred, of course, would have that covered. He takes the coffee mug from in front of Tim, moving it toward the stove where there's a kettle of water on for tea. “Are you going to look?”

Tim stares at the envelope, pacing the narrow length of his kitchen. “It makes it real,” He says. Jason tips his head so Tim clarifies. “It makes the baby real. Right now it's an it. A medical condition. It's not...it's not real to me right now. Knowing that it is a he or a she? It makes it real.” 

Jason's hand eases out, slowly enough Tim can see him coming. He rests his palm on the more prominent swell of Tim's belly. Tim has taken to wearing his usual oversized t-shirts at home but oversized isn't quite so big anymore. “This doesn't make it real?” He asks skeptically. “Because even if you don't look, baby bird, it's real and you don't even have three months before it's here.”

He knows that. Tim isn't normally one to shy away from such a logical conclusion. And yet. “Let's look,” He says, then shoves the envelope at Jason. “You look,” He amends. “Then tell me.” 

They move over to the couch. Tim determinedly doesn't look and Jason questions at least ten times if he's sure he wants him to look first. If he wants to look at all. Tim hears the envelope being slit and paper being unfolded. Jason is silent. 

“What?” He whispers, wondering how something could possibly go so wrong from a piece of paper. When he looks at Jason, Jason has a look on his face that Tim's never seen. He can't place the emotion. Shock? Joy? Fear? “What is it?” He repeats, and he doesn't just mean the baby. 

He hands Tim the piece of paper and Tim reads without even thinking about it. _Baby Drake-Wayne_ it reads. _Female._ Tim isn't sure what he's feeling. Elation. The sense of the universe clicking into place. “A girl,” He says. 

“A girl,” Jason echoes, awestruck. “What are the odds of that?” If he was the father. That went unsaid. “Can they tell what else she'll be?

It's a statistic Tim can leap on. “Omega couples are actually more likely to produce female children over males.” He might say more but Jason kisses him then. Sweetly and uncertainly, like they are much younger than they are. It's a dry, fierce press of lips, and then another. “Still can't tell what she is. I guess that's a surprise.” Maybe she would be born with a secondary sex. Maybe she would smell like it later.

“We're having a daughter,” Jason repeats. “A daughter.” His hand goes to Tim's stomach, sliding under the fabric of the shirt. It...she...is asleep, Tim knows. She sleeps through the evening and wakes up for patrol, or when he's monitoring. A night owl as much as he is. When he counts her movements to record, he does it in the middle of the night. 

For a moment, Tim basks in the attention. “Do we tell anyone?” He asks at last. “About her? About Ra's?” 

Jason sighs, pressing his face into Tim's hair. “I think we have to on both. No one can help with what they don't know about.” As much as it hurts his pride to say so. Red Hood's pockets and influence are deep. Batman's are deeper. 

“Tomorrow,” Tim decides. “Tonight I just want us to know.” He glances back to his laptop. “And I think we should do some shopping.” 

“Realizing your daughter is going to be sleeping in a shoe box in an empty room?” Jason asks. 

“It's called a baby box,” Tim corrects, looking at Jason's horrified face. “They give them away in Finland! They're very popular!”

Jason sits beside him as he starts to navigate to a few websites and make a checklist of what they are going to buy. This has made it real. Real enough, at least, to start the nursery. 

~*~*~

“We all have three first names,” Tim complains as he goes through a name book. It's not the most normal activity in the bat cave, but he's half sulking that he's not allowed to even train and he might as well get something done. It earns him a glance. “Except for Damian and Alfred.”

“What do you mean?” Bruce questions, finishing restocking his utility belt. 

“Bruce Thomas Wayne,” Tim says, pointing to him. “Richard John Grayson. Jason Peter Todd. Timothy Jackson Drake. All of our names could double as first names. With the exceptions of Pennyworth and Al Ghul.” 

“Which is no longer my surname,” Damian corrects him. 

“I was counting it as a middle,” Tim argues. 

“Is there a point to this?” Dick asks. Then he pauses. “Wait, are you thinking of naming the baby after one of us?” He looks so delighted that Tim braces himself and Dick sweeps him into a hug, swinging him around. It puts enough pressure on his belly that he makes a sound and Dick instantly has him sitting back down. “Sorry, T.”

He likes moments like this. He wishes Jason were more welcome here to see them, but he knows not to push for what they can't have. Jason agrees Bruce should help keep their daughter safe and that's as much as he can hope for right now. He's relieved enough to not have to play peacekeeper. The fact that the baby was a girl was met with pretty much universal joy. Bruce, maybe, would have hoped for a boy to keep things more simple but everyone seemed pleased enough that the baby was healthy. 

“I'm noticing naming patterns,” Tim replies. “It's not like I have much else to do.” That with a pointed look at Bruce. 

“You're thirty-five weeks pregnant,” Bruce replies. “Dick has already agreed to wear Red Robin for a couple of nights. I'm certain you have more significant things to be involved in.” 

The idea that there was anything more significant than their mission was news to him, but Tim doesn't want to pick that fight either. He's tired, more than anything. Jason has caught him sleeping in even weirder places than normal at even more bizarre times than normal. He's had to pee more than usual. He's horny and too exhausted to do anything about it. He's felt his first false contraction and that certainly wasn't fun. 

There's also the fact his daughter isn't cooperating. She isn't head down and there's only one week to go before that's a concern. His pelvic bones are shifting, but they haven't moved enough yet. Tim is used to simply thinking of something and performing the necessary tasks so it becomes that way. The baby is not letting him shape his reality and he regularly wakes Jason up with his panic. 

He also wakes Jason up by squirming into positions that put his ass in the air. He's trying to encourage the baby to turn, but it distracts Jason for different reasons. 

Jason at least likes him on the comms. He helps Red Hood on the nights no one else wants to let him stay awake. He misses patrol. He misses fighting crime. He's all together ready for this entire affair to be over and her to be out and safe. 

Names don't come easily to him, or to Jason. Jason has enough mother issues that Tim doesn't bring it up and he's not overly fond of his own mother's name. He thinks to move away from family names, but he doesn't know how to create meaning in something entirely new. 

Dick and Bruce go back to sparring. Damian is creeping up, close enough that Tim turns to look at him. He's expectant, because he and Damian have come to a truce where they don't invade one another's space at all. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks simply, gesturing to Tim's waist so there's no question. 

Tim tries not to smile. He doesn't want to scare him away. Damian's been asking cautious questions like that for months. “A little,” He admits, rubbing his back. “I'm sore and carrying around an extra twenty pounds. When she kicks there's a good chance she hits internal organs.” 

Damian looks a little disgusted and Tim can hardly blame him. He's a little disgusted about half the time and he's both an omega and the one carrying the child. Damian is an alpha. Damian has no reason to care at all. “That sounds most unpleasant,” He declares. He doesn't move away. 

Tim leans back in his chair. He tries to make himself as small and nonchalant as possible. “It kind of is,” He admits. “Do you want to feel?”

Even Bruce had a brief moment of touching his stomach. The baby had staunchly refused anything but her most basic of kicks and they'd both quickly agreed it was too weird to continue. Damian was the only one who hadn't yet indulged. 

“In case I should ever encounter it in the field,” Damian replies and places his hand, flat, on Tim's stomach. Tim shifts slightly so he can move it to the right place. The baby stirs, punches out and writhes. Tim grimaces; of course it would be Damian's touch that makes her violent. “Disgusting,” He tells Tim, but he doesn't move his hand away. “You have not thought of a namesake for her?”

“She's not living inside you,” Tim reminds him. “I'm regularly disturbed by something she does.” And all together fond as well. He dislikes losing control of his body. He's come to accept the fact it's necessary for her growth and well-being. “And no. We haven't thought of names.” 

Damian tilts his head, fingers drumming a little on Tim's belly. “Perhaps Lucrece? Ophelia?”

“Raped and dead for the first. Insane and dead for the second. I think I'll pick something happier,” Tim replies. Even if he is now currently panicking about having a baby name ready for her. Isn't it important to start calling her something early on? 

“You have no taste,” Damian informs him. “Perhaps something more classical like Elizabeth or Andromeda.” 

“Damian,” Dick scolds, panting as he he dances around Bruce while they fight. “She's Tim's baby. Tim gets to name her.”

“Tt.” But Damian doesn't say anything else and he keeps his hand there throughout the sparring match between Bruce and Dick. The baby keeps punching at him, stretching enough to make Tim a little nauseated before the spar comes to a finish and Damian steps in to fight the victor. 

It's nearly dawn before he gets back to his apartment, and Jason slips in only a half hour after him. Tim cracks an eye open to make sure Jason isn't too injured before letting him slide into bed beside him. He's about to fall asleep when he feels it. Jason does too, clearly, as Tim is draped mostly on top of him. 

“What was that?” He asks. Tim's entire stomach had jerked. A contraction, is his instant thought, and he's suddenly wide awake. It's only a few seconds before it happens again. Should it be going that quickly?

Tim gentles him back down with a hand on his arm and a huge yawn. “She has the hiccups,” He murmurs. There's a kind of sleepy affection in his voice that Jason is amazed at. That Tim can be so calm when something so bizarre is going on. “She'll stop in a minute.” 

Surprisingly, it's only a little over a minute before she does. Tim is already asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm getting a bunch of suggestions (and I appreciate them), the baby already has a name and actually has since the third chapter of this fic!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce starts working himself to death. Tim tells people he's pregnant on a need to know basis. Jason attends a childbirth class and it's kind of gross.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter and largely unedited, so you have my apologies in the form of an extra update on Sunday or Monday! From this point on, chapters have been swapped around from how they were originally ordered so if there's a major continuity error please let me know. Hopefully I caught them all. 
> 
> Also I'm terrible at writing Titans. I admit it. I'm sorry. Did I mention the extra update in apology? Yeah?
> 
> No warnings apply to this chapter.

“There's nothing strange at all in the compound,” Bruce announces. He sounds frustrated. He is frustrated. Tim can tell by the way he runs his hand through his hair, tugging at it by the roots. Bruce's hair is graying and while it's not the first time Tim's realized it, it's never more prominent than in moments like this. Moments of stress, when Bruce is a man outside of a suit. A man currently sitting at his breakfast table and nursing a very strong cup of coffee while Tim looks on enviously. Caffeine, he's discovered, upsets his daughter far more than it even keeps him awake. He's cut down if only because she punishes him by stretching and pressing and kicking inside him when he gives her too large of a dose at once. 

Jason had seen her through his skin the first time, her foot pressing a clean line over Tim's belly. He'd screamed. Tim couldn't particularly blame him; sometimes it was like a freak show. She was running out of space, small as she was, and slowly overtaking the rest of his abdominal cavity. But after he'd gotten used to the fact that Tim was going to look like a giant parasite was trying to burst through his skin, Jason had been happy to linger. To let her kick at his face or try to press kisses to whatever limb was flailing until Tim informed him that he felt more deprived. And also a little weirded out, because he had never imagined Red Hood as the kissing sort of person. 

“I get something from Ra's alGhul himself,” Tim repeats slowly. “And there's nothing strange about it?”

“I didn't say the situation itself wasn't strange. Just that the product he gave you is normal. Relatively speaking,” Bruce clarifies. “A carrier oil. Some essential oils. A few easily identified compounds available in folk remedies in his part of the world.” Bruce makes a hand gesture that Tim knows means he is still grasping to come up with some idea. “Nothing suspicious. And for what you've told me about your issue, it would be a viable remedy. Nothing even questionable for a pregnant omega.” 

It's frustrating. Tim had almost been hoping for some kind of mind control potion or neurotoxin or something to give them a hint of what Ra's wanted. “Wait,” Tim says, piecing something together. “You flew to another continent to ask questions about this?”

“And to see if I could find another sample,” Bruce replies like he's not attired in a suit and ready for another meeting in Gotham today having been across an ocean last night. “If he didn't want you pregnant, now wouldn't be the time to strike to end the pregnancy. If he wanted her, she's past the point of viability now. He could just take her.”

Tim feels rage like he's never felt it before at those words. He grits his teeth, focuses on how glad he is Jason is not in the apartment, and silently reassures himself that none of them are going to let those things happen. To him or to her. 

“Damian is puzzling over what motivation Ra's could have. Dick is keeping an ear to the ground. We'll figure this out.” Bruce is trying to be confident. Reassuring. Tim appreciates it even if he'll be opening all the windows to air out the smell of alpha before Jason gets home. Jason does at least have a sense for when Bruce is about to arrive and he usually clears out. “Anyway,” Bruce continues. “Have you told your friends? Red Robin's friends, more precisely. Superman asked me how your broken back was and found it unusual the x-rays showed it was broken in the same spots as mine was a few years ago.” 

Tim's eyes narrow. But, then, he's not sure what he expected. He can't hide from the Titans forever. They've been understanding about his scant contact. They all burn out and their losses most recently have been rather heavy. Still...

“I have nothing to say on the matter,” Bruce replies with a hitch of his shoulders. “Far be it for me to enforce interpersonal skills.” 

Probably something he'd learned from Dick, Tim thinks. Robin was always mouthy and it had taken Tim a little time to get used to the quips and the one-liners that marked a sidekick to Batman. But he simply nods and takes another swallow of tea. 

“I did promise to call them today,” Tim agrees. But letting people in on this, even people he trusts implicitly, is hard. They of course have probably figured it out by now and really he has no excuse for not telling them in an official capacity for so long but..well they'd probably appreciate it more now than later. “Have you slept today?”

“Have you?” Bruce counters. He takes another drink of coffee that must be burning his mouth but he doesn't show any pain at the gesture. 

Tim shrugs. “I have pregnancy induced insomnia. Which isn't that different from regular insomnia except I feel better after a night of not sleeping. Power napping feels absolutely amazing now.” Which is what he's managed to do. Fall asleep on Jason and wake up every couple of hours to go pee, wander around his apartment, and check the comms to see how various patrols were going. 

“That's going well?” Bruce asks. “The pregnancy, not the insomnia in particular.” And he looks like he's trying so hard not to be uncomfortable that Tim wants to laugh. “Alfred gives me the highlights but I feel a bit unsettled that one of our greatest enemies knows more about this event than I do.” 

Tim shrugs. He wants to sit down, but he's been feeling restless lately. Of course a day on his feet means his ankles are horrifyingly swollen by the end of it but sitting still has been driving him crazy. He finally knows how Dick feels. “What do you want to know? A general overview? Disgusting details? Because Damian wants to pretend I'm fat most of the time and Dick would probably roll me off the table and have the baby for me if he was able. He wants that much information.” 

Bruce chokes a little bit. “An overview is fine.” Then he clarifies. “Whatever you feel comfortable sharing, though.” And he must be thanking his lucky stars for Jason who absorbs most of the gross information with a laugh and an equally disgusting quip about it. 

Tim hesitates. “She's a girl,” He offers like Bruce doesn't know that. “She's just under five pounds, which is small for her age. Her favorite position is transverse to the left.” It's strange and difficult describing someone they've never met officially. Someone who currently lives inside him. But Tim and Jason both have been desperate for information about her. For some indication of her personality or what to expect from her. “She doesn't like music being played to her but she likes being read to. We think. We haven't actually run conclusive tests or anything.” 

“We?” Bruce cuts in. 

“Jason and me.” Which Tim also thinks Bruce already knows. “Anything else you want to know?”

“No. I should actually be going.” Bruce folds up the newspaper he'd been reading earlier and stands up. Then he strokes his chin, looking contemplative. “What do you think she would like as a gift?”

Tim snorts, but he's grinning at Bruce's attempt at a joke. “I think she'd like me to eat more of those pizza bagels that she wants but that I die a little inside every time I eat.” A lot of that is probably heartburn, also courtesy of her. “I'll be in at the office this afternoon, by the way. Just want to make a few calls. “

~*~*~

He hangs up twice before he actually gets the courage to call. It's the regular Titans line, complete with video screen. He's shot a couple of text messages off to his closest team mates, typing one up to Conner out of habit before remembering all over again what happened. 

But he plasters a smile on his face and checks to see that his mask is secure and it's Bart who answers the phone. “Dude,” He says as soon as the picture is clear. Tim can see his eyes widen. “You don't think you could have told us a little sooner?”

“Wait,” Tim replies. “You knew?”

“We're not stupid,” Gar says, visible first as only a tuft of green hair then, “Whoah, dude. I'm so losing that pool now.” 

“What pool?” Tim's not sure if he should feel impressed or horrified. The temptation to cover up his stomach is real. He didn't think it was so visible when he was seated. 

“How pregnant you were,” Cassie replies. The screen is getting crowded now but Tim actually feels...rather warmed. It's nice to see their faces, nice to hear their voices without having to panic and hang up if they get too close to the truth. “Don't worry,” She adds. “We didn't spread the rumor around or anything...” 

“Just listened to it and took bets on it,” Bart agrees cheerfully. “How long until I'm an uncle?”

“Uh,” Tim replies and tries to seem nonchalant about all of this. It's still difficult to discuss. Even at his regular job (and he used to think of being a vigilante as his regular job) he doesn't know what to say when well meaning employees ask him. “Five weeks? There's some debate about how she's gestating.”

“She!” Cassie yells, pumping her fist in victory. 

Tim's overwhelmed. “Yeah, she,” He says first and Bart groans and smacks himself in the forehead which Tim chooses to take as a reaction to him losing a bet instead of having a pretend niece. “Tell me about these rumors.” 

They're not very informative. But of course it hadn't been too hard to piece together, Tim supposes, from the clues they'd been given. Tim calling sick to his stomach. Red Robin's temporary disappearance. He wonders about Ra's and the part he played but, ultimately, he's just glad the secret is out for Red Robin as much as it is out for Tim Drake. 

He's pulled back to reality by specific words. “No baby shower,” He cuts it off. “If you feel the overwhelming need you may send one gift when she is born. One.” He's firm on that. The baby is already going to have more than most. 

“But the cake,” Bart protests. 

“The games,” Gar adds. 

Tim sighs. “Thanks. I mean, I appreciate the thought but you all don't find this a little...weird?” He pauses. “Like I realize we deal with demonic forces and time travel and things like that so this probably doesn't tip the weirdness scale too far but...”

“It's strange without you,” Cassie agrees with a little smile and a shrug that says that a lot of things have been strange lately. “But we're so glad you're alright.” 

“Who's the dad?” Bart asks like he can't contain it any more. “The alpha? What's the terminology here?”

“Father,” Raven's voice comes from off screen. “You shouldn't ask, though.”

Tim doesn't want to simply blurt out that he doesn't know. He also doesn't want to open up the can of emotional worms that is his child's paternity. So he shrugs and tries to smile. “Not important right now.”

“Ouch,” Garfield says. “Bummer.”

Tim shrugs. “It happens.” The best course of action, he thinks, is to act like it doesn't matter. He can explain later, when he knows the full truth. They're not dumb enough to not put certain pieces together but the lack of certainty about his daughter's paternity seems like his cross to bear on his own. It's good to have his friends be in the loop if things get any worse. It's actually just good to tell someone outside the family. 

~*~*~

“Don't judge me for asking but if you're going to have a c-section why are we going to a childbirth class?” Jason had looked ready to bolt from the moment Tim told him about it, but he'd grudgingly escorted him to the community center that came highly recommended by the doctor's office. 

“Because I don't want a c-section,” Tim replies, jaw set in a stubborn way that Jason knows means he won't be reasoned or argued with. “You train to learn new things, right? So I'm going to train for this.” And of course he would think that way. Tim had to work maybe harder than any of the rest of them to be Robin. And he was amazing at whatever he set his mind to. 

Jason's not sure what to make of all of it. Tim's formerly broken bones that won't spread now to allow the baby's head out trouble him. The idea of escorting Tim to a hospital at a designated place and time to be cut open also troubles him. He knows Tim Drake-Wayne will get the best care but it also runs the risk of trouble arising purely because of the name. 

His daughter isn't even born and he's already plotting ways to kill people who hurt her. Or try to hurt her. Or think about hurting her. It should probably worry Jason more than it does. But for the moment he follows loyally behind Tim and into a room full of pregnant omegas, a mix of betas, and some alpha partners. "You're not thinking of using the stuff Ra's gave you, are you?" He wants to hear that Tim isn't that desperate. He doesn't know what he'll do if Tim actually is that desperate. "I don't want her to have like six arms or telepathy or a penchant for dramatic capes and shadow empires."

Tim snorts as he gets slowly to the floor. There are mats and pillows there and Jason is honestly hoping for nap time. He's been putting out a lot of fires and starting even more, trying to get word of Ra's or assassins or anything else in Gotham in the hopes he can flush them out before it's time for the baby to arrive. "Your mind goes from six arms to shadow empires. But, no, I'm not going to use it. Think I'll stick to yoga and massage."

"Great," Jason agrees. Unfortunately for him it turns out the class involves letting Tim rest between his spread legs and use him as a physical support instead of just getting some well-deserved rest. They have a lot of experience for that much of it and the rest is positions that make Jason think they've wandered into a yoga class instead of a birthing class. He's distinctly uncomfortable with the positions Tim bends into, with the very physically accurate model of the omega pelvis (both male and female) at the front of the room. With the teacher who behaves as though there isn't something subtly yet completely fucked up about giving birth in general. How does one even become a certified childbirth educator? 

Tim is riveted, however, and Jason stays silent for his sake. He knows how much Tim wants to be a good parent. It's an interesting class, Jason will give it (and Tim) that much. Tim pulls out his cell phone during certain portions and Jason can see him typing notes into it. Key words, mostly, phrases so he can no doubt do his own research. 

"Why is there a giant piece of liver on the table?" Jason whispers, having flashbacks to nights at the manor after he'd lost too much blood on patrol. He can kind of see the organ, sitting next to the model of the fetus in the fake uterus, when he stretches his spine to sit up taller. "That can't be sanitary."

Tim has to sit nearly on Jason to get high enough to look. He covers the motion by acting like he's adjusting the pillows and the other omegas around him look so indulgent and understanding that Jason feels a little ill and not just from the memory of liver. "That's a preserved placenta," Tim tells him quietly. "It grows with the baby and then comes out after it." 

"No way," Jason claims. "That thing is huge." And totally disgusting looking, preserved or not.

"Half of it is like...attached to your uterus," Tim answers. He pauses to listen to the instructor, and apparently deems her discussion of baby product brands not interesting enough to silence Jason for. "It can also kill you if it rips off wrong." 

That's not reassuring for Jason to know. He doesn't want to take too close of a look at it, either. Growing a new organ that weighs over a pound and might decide to murder you during childbirth doesn't sound like his idea of a good time. He zones out for the most part. 

Of course he's not dismissing this class as useless. Tim seems to be enjoying it. But Jason isn't exactly the type to coach someone gently through breathing exercises or pack a hospital bag. He'll do what Tim needs him to do when the time comes. If that's going to get him a pair of particular socks he's going to do that. If it's standing guard outside the nursery with a barely concealed shotgun, he's going to do that too. The longer this goes on the more Jason has become determined to take care of Tim and the baby. He's willing to accept some more hands and eyes; they can't be too careful with their daughter. But as far as the family goes, he's trying to enforce his place.

He's drawn back to the present when Tim stiffens in his arms. The conversation has shifted to surgical intervention. Jason wraps his arms more firmly around Tim, hand rubbing against the bulge of his stomach soothingly. He doesn't want to hear the particulars of this. He's sliced enough people open to know about the layers of fat and muscle to get through to get to organs. However, he's never removed an infant through those incisions. 

None of them like anesthetic, even. They've built a crazy tolerance to most types of medications. Jason's not sure how well a spinal will work on Tim and he knows Tim's been doing as much research as possible on it. Sometimes too much information is a bad thing, and Jason knows it's different to read cold hard facts and to decide to apply them to your life and that of your child. He nuzzles against Tim's throat, mouthing the skin there and swaying with him as much as he can. He can feel Tim's wild pulse against his lips, can feel the seizing, shuddering breaths he's taken. He wonders how many near panic attacks like this Tim's had in public and how well he's managed to hide them. Tim is a master at it, it would seem, and that would concern Jason were he not the same way. And Dick and even Damian the same way. They hide until they are about to break and sometimes even then they keep going like good little soldiers. 

Having a baby should be nothing too difficult to children of the bat. He thinks he'll make it a point to remind Tim of that later on. 

He's glad when the teacher moves on. What you should bring to the hospital and what will be provided for you. He finds the segment on limiting who is present for the birth quite informative, even for their messed up little family. Tim's family. He can just imagine if all of them were in the room for the birth and how chaotic it would be. So far Tim's expressed an interest in limiting it and Jason's incredibly, privately grateful. 

“Now,” The instructor says, holding her hands in front of her primly. “We're going to practice our breathing exercises with our partners. Not to trouble you but labor will be an intensely painful experience that your partner will never be able to feel.” 

“Generalization,” Tim murmurs teasingly, shifting to the desired position for breathing, facing Jason. 

“I bet that time I crashed through the roof of that warehouse and hit every beam on the way down hurt more,” Jason agrees, sitting so his knees are bumping Tim's. He also doesn't think about the fact that he could feel what Tim did. He doesn't like the idea of a baby inside him or trying to get out of him. 

“That time you got poisoned and fell in an ant hill and they started stinging you,” Tim reminds him. He takes a deep breath with his lips pursed and then blows it out. Jason tries to mimic him without laughing. He does know that breathing exercises can help with pain, but they don't need this class to practice them. They basically live them. 

“Ugh,” Jason replies, pressing his forehead to Tim's and holding his hands. They breathe for a moment more as the teacher walks by and Jason feels like a naughty student instead of like a grown man. “Or the time I died. No amount of breathing is going to get you through that. I bet that's tougher than labor.” 

Tim goes quiet. Jason doesn't know if he really is focusing on the breathing exercises or if he's been too casual bringing up his death. Probably a little bit of both, and he makes it up to Tim with a quick kiss. A kiss that Tim jumps at, not expecting it, and they end up cracking their heads together and gritting their teeth through the last of the breathing. 

Then it's question time. Tim doesn't ask any, but makes a few notes. He's settled once more between Jason's thighs with Jason's hand on his belly. Jason is mentally listing what they need to do in the nursery tonight when he feels a brief, insistent nudge against the palm of his hand. It makes Jason grin, even if he hides the expression against Tim's back because he doesn't want anyone else in the class noticing. It's maybe still bizarre but he loves feeling the baby move, adores her even more that she shuns everyone but Tim and himself for moving even if he knows she's probably not consciously aware of what she's doing. He moves his hand and she follows after a bit, making Tim grumble since she's no doubt shifting in very cramped quarters now. 

"Ugh," Tim grunts. "I have to pee. Keep her away from my bladder."

Jason laughs silently and obliges.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim tries to deal with Lucas in a multitude of ways and comes to a realization about his night job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the promised chapter update. Warnings apply for sex early in the chapter (basically first thing) and the ex-boyfriend being a dick pretty much completely after that. Look for a side story (prequel?) before this gets updated again purely because things in the side story will come up later in this one. I hate it when I do that. 
> 
> Thanks for the reviews and suggestions you leave and I do read every one and try to incorporate it into future works or chapters. Thanks for reading this long and drawn out story; I'm trying not to let it get too mammoth and there is an end (or at least a baby) in sight!

It's nearly afternoon by the time they bother to fully wake up, since it's a weekend and Tim's insomnia has him up and down most of the night and early morning. Jason slides his hand over Tim's belly as he does every time they end up waking up together. He reaches to grab the massage oil and slips a hand between Tim's legs to rub. Daily massages, the doctor said, and Jason keeps to it.

Jason tries to keep this intimate instead of practical. By now he's used to rubbing the sponge of bone through Tim's skin, encouraging bone to separate and ligaments to stretch. He'd been outwardly calm when Tim told him about the problem and about a potential surgery when it was time for their daughter to be born, but on patrol that night he'd turned off his comm and busted some heads in. 

Omega health was not something Jason was comfortable with, despite being one himself. Giving anyone, doctor or no, that power over himself or his lover was terrifying. He knew Tim had enough to worry about without him piling his own issues on, but it didn't stop Jason from wanting to do everything possible to help Tim get what he wanted. In this case, not having to deal with Tim tied down and cut into was something Jason also definitely wanted. 

“Mmm,” Tim murmurs, coming to awareness more slowly without the aid of coffee this morning. He stretches and Jason can never help himself but to watch and marvel. Tim is still tiny. His shoulders are still small, his muscles still toned but he'll never be the powerhouse Jason is or even Dick is. Damian is fast outgrowing him. The only large part about him currently is his stomach, and even that is small enough to constantly make people misjudge exactly how pregnant he is. “Feels good,” He adds, yawning and not opening his eyes. “Wouldn't think manipulating a bone could feel good.”

There's an ache, Jason knows. He can feel the strain in Tim's body as it tries to adjust to the upcoming burden that will be placed on it. It's thrilling. He's excited and at the same time thinking of his own body going through something similar has him in a panicked heap in a corner. He has to shove away the voice that points out this could happen to him except for luck and rarely letting anyone touch that part of him. 

The part his fingers are currently on as he massages Tim. He rubs the exterior, teasing Tim's sack and balls, rolling them in his palm as he reaches the hollow under like he can make the bone move there. His fingers drift to Tim's entrance, quickly getting wet and not just with the oil, pressing barely inside to curl up, pressing through delicate flesh to the bone beneath. They've made progress; even Jason can feel that much. He's glad Tim gave up on the idea of having him break the bone.

Jason grins when Tim's breath starts to hitch and he rocks his hips against the touch. Of course Jason is adding a little extra something to the massage. A light spread of his fingers inside Tim, or the heel of his hand at the base of his cock. One of Tim's best forms of stress relief, really. “Come on,” He purrs, pressing his lips against Tim's shoulder then dragging his teeth over his collarbone. “I can feel you clenching. You're almost there, aren't you?”

“Can't,” Tim breathes, hips shifting restlessly. “Jason...”

“You can,” Jason coaxes. “I want to see you come on my fingers. Want to feel you pulse against my hand.” 

“Seriously,” Tim says. “I can't...flat on my back. Too much pressure on the wrong nerves.” 

It almost ruins the mood. Jason wants to laugh. He wants to pity Tim. Instead he helps him roll to his side, Jason spooning behind him and trying to ignore how hard is own cock is. “There,” He murmurs in his ear. “Better?”

Tim whimpers. Jason fingers him a little harder, rocks his hips up against him. This way it isn't long at all before he does feel Tim clench, pulsing around his fingers, cock dripping as he reaches a complete orgasm. “Now,” He says, the world feeling fuzzy around the edges. “Let me take care of you.” 

Predictably, that's when the doorbell rings. It's followed by a loud, furious knock. Tim groans, but he's already crawling out of bed. He pulls his boxers up with a grimace at how sticky they are, grabbing for a bathrobe. 

“Expecting someone?” Jason asks, wondering if this might just be a delivery guy or something and they can get right back to what they were doing. 

“Dick wants to borrow that gaming system I have.” No one reasonable would be that enthusiastic about ringing the doorbell and banging on the door itself. “Some exercise in humanizing Damian. Go take a shower. This might take a while.” He's feeling pretty apologetic about leaving Jason wanting.

It isn't Dick at the door. Tim curses himself the moment the door is open enough for him to see because he should have checked before he bothered to unlock it. Lucas Powers stands there in crisp slacks and a shirt without a wrinkle. He's clearly been awake for longer than an hour. 

“Tim,” He says. “I thought we might talk.” He calm, like he hadn't just been abusing Tim's doorbell. “Clearly we need to.” And what was it with people staring at his stomach?

Tim ties the robe more tightly closed, but at this point there's really no hiding the bump. “I thought my feelings on talking to you again were clear,” Tim says, fingers drifting up to his own jaw to give him a clue. “I don't want to talk to you and I especially don't want to see you. “

“You're pregnant,” Lucas tells him like Tim would only now realize it. “Your brother can say all he wants that it's not my kid but you weren't with anyone when we were together. I would have known.” 

Like how Tim hadn't known. How Tim had trusted Lucas. He crosses his arms, blocking him when he tries to get into the apartment. “Dick's right,” He snaps. It warms him a little, gives him some conviction that Dick has tried to protect him. “It's not yours so you have no business here.” Better, he knows, if Lucas simply leaves under the impression there's not a chance the baby is his. It's something Tim has struggled with. A child deserves to know her parents, even if one of them pulled such a stunt. But he can't bear the thought of Lucas being involved in the pregnancy or, God forbid, the delivery. “I want you to leave.” 

Lucas nudges him aside. Tim overbalances enough to let him in, hissing in irritation as Lucas invades his apartment. His safe space, with Jason. Oh God. Jason is still there. In the shower. 

“Get out,” Tim urges, then more desperately. “I'll call you. We'll talk. But not right now.” 

Lucas has his face turned toward the bedroom, scenting the air. His gaze strays back to Tim with a smirk that makes him feel dirty. “You obviously need an alpha around,” He says softly, reaching to touch his shoulder. “I wish I'd come a little earlier. I could have helped you out...”

_He smells me_ Tim realizes. _He smells sex. But not Jason._ He smelled omega. Not two distinct omegas. “Out,” He repeats, stepping back from him to shove him back toward the door. 

“I want a paternity test,” Lucas snaps. “Excuse me for not taking your word. Even if you said it was mine I wouldn't believe you. I can get a court order.” 

“It's too late in the pregnancy. I'll be happy to provide you with the results of a paternity test after delivery.” From a safe distance. Tim's pretty sure he can forge the paternity results and if he can't there's a million places to live where Lucas Powers will never find them.

The fact he's already seriously evaluating how to run with his baby might be telling him that his nesting instinct is out of control. 

He hears the shower stop. He has to get Lucas out of here. Not because he cares about him possibly getting his skull stomped under Jason's heel but because he knows they'll have to let him go afterward. He doesn't need authorities asking questions about a legally dead man. “Now I'm telling you to leave my home,” Tim repeats. “Contact my office and I'll be in touch tomorrow. But never come here again.” 

“You don't have an alpha who comes here,” Lucas says as though Tim hasn't been speaking at all. “If you were carrying another alpha's whelp I think he'd be around, don't you? The pay day from the papers alone for selling the story would be enough to stick around.”

It's a threat. Tim wants to break his jaw again to remind him exactly how making threats toward him ended for him last time. “A decent alpha wouldn't do that. Get the fuck out of my house.”

Lucas might have argued more but Dick appears in the doorway. “Whoah,” He says like he hadn't been aware of the argument during his trip down the hall. “Is there a problem here?”

It's the appearance of an alpha that gets Lucas to leave, and Tim's almost in angry, hormonal tears when Lucas storms away. Dick wraps an arm around him, whispering reassurances that Lucas can't actually do anything to him or to the baby. That none of them will let him lay a finger on either of them.

Jason is livid when he realizes what's happened. His growl is enough to put any alpha's to shame. Even Dick's presence is unwelcome to Jason as he paces the apartment. He will protect his mate. He will protect their child. Even if it involves shooting an overstepping alpha in the face and burying parts of him around Gotham. 

Eventually the three of them end up in a pile like they are nothing more than puppies. Dick is on one side of Tim and Jason is on the other. The three of them tangle together, Jason's hand protectively over Tim's stomach. It means something to Dick, Tim knows, that Jason trusts him in this. Jason trusts him to protect Tim. It's another step to rebuilding a fractured relationship. 

“He won't get her,” Tim says. “For now I'll talk to keep him away. I'll agree to a paternity test when she's born.” He hesitates, wondering if he should include the rest. “I can forge the results. And if...if something happens then I'll just leave.” Jason growls. “With you,” Tim amends. “I won't disappear. But I won't let him have anything to do with her when she's a baby.” 

It's irrational, this need to protect her. Lucas hasn't truly done anything except be a jackass to Tim. He hasn't offered to strike him and short of being condescending and degrading, there's no reason why a judge wouldn't want him to have at least visitation rights if it went to court. There's no reason a logical minded Tim wouldn't agree to it but at the moment he wants Lucas as far away from her as possible. 

~*~*~

The best way to keep Lucas away, Bruce advises, is to meet with him and lay out some terms. Bruce provides the location in a meeting room at Wayne Enterprises. Bruce also provides a lawyer. Tim knows the woman from a few contracts they've done. She doesn't specialize in custody or family law but he still wouldn't want to go up against her. Jewel Bennet sounds like the name of a socialite, not a pit bull attorney. 

“You didn't have to lawyer up,” Lucas says when he arrives, as though he hasn't brought his own attorney who looms behind him like a security guard. 

“Mr. Drake-Wayne simply wants to make certain you both reach the most agreeable solution for all parties,” Ms. Bennet says sweetly. Lucas smirks, because Tim told him how much he had been loathing the hyphenated last name. 

They take a seat at the table. It's one of the smaller conference rooms, but Tim is glad to put something solid between them. He's glad to hide his belly, too obvious in a suit jacket, beneath the lip of it. He has heartburn from the way his daughter is snuggled up against his stomach, but there are definitely worse things. 

“I've agreed to a paternity test,” Tim says smoothly. “My physician agrees at this stage of the pregnancy it is best to wait until the child is born.” He has to be careful. He doesn't want to use pronouns, doesn't want to reveal to Lucas that he's having a girl. It feels petty and Tim doesn't care any more. “I believe it's a bit premature to discuss anything else without proof of paternity, don't you?”

“Who else were you with?” Lucas demands. “The baby is mine. You're just playing games. Putting off the inevitable.” His lawyer hushes him, somewhat. 

“Like you were with your wife?” Tim counters, feeling vicious. “I wasn't unfaithful to you, not that I owed you any loyalty. It was after the relationship had ended, but I don't have to justify myself to you.” It's a sudden realization. He smiles. Ms. Bennet looks a little troubled by it. “I don't owe you anything right now.” 

“Joint custody,” Lucas says. “Split right down the middle. I'm in a stable, loving relationship. I could provide a much better environment for a child than a single omega under the thumb of a notoriously philandering alpha.” 

It takes Tim a moment to realize that he means Bruce, and he chokes on a laugh. “You haven't even proved the baby's yours yet,” He points out. “And I know the baby's mine.” 

“It is extremely premature to be discussing custody agreements,” Ms. Bennet agrees, speaking to the other attorney who seems far more reasonable than his client. “We are simply here to sign a few documents stating Mr. Drake-Wayne will provide the results of a paternity test on his offspring to Mr. Powers within a month of the child's birth. The testing will be done by an impartial, third party laboratory mutually agreed upon. I feel that is more than fair.” 

The other attorney nods. “I would advise my client to sign that, after a read through.” He begins to do just that. Tim rubs the bottom of his stomach, skin prickling. He's the only omega in the room. He thinks he should be more used to it. 

“The next document,” Ms. Bennet continues “States that Mr. Powers will not have any contact with my client until after the birth of the child. Mr. Drake-Wayne is having a difficult pregnancy and we have medical evidence that stress only exacerbates the effects of a few health conditions.” 

The lawyer looks that over as well and nods at Lucas. “With the agreement that he's contacted upon the birth of the child.” 

“Within a week. You'll notice that is in provision three of the contract.”

Lucas signs that as well and stares at Tim. He's still handsome. Tim still remembers kissing him, loving him, making him laugh. It's a worse feeling inside him than the heartburn. 

“You think it's all about you,” Lucas says to him quietly as he and Ms. Bennet show their guests the door to make certain they find it. “Omegas like you think you're the center of it all. I'm not doing this because I give a shit about you, Tim. I'm doing it because I deserve to be a part of this kid's life.” 

“You could have fooled me,” Tim answers easily. “Because all your actions lead me to think it's me you care about.”

The words roll around in his head later, as he hides in his office. He's actually getting some work done, trying not to dwell on it since everything went their way, but the words are catching him for a completely different reason. _You think it's all about you._

He barges into Bruce's office after a surprisingly spirited walk. His gait is a little off with the weight of the baby, but at least he isn't toddling around. Bruce glances up, a little startled that Tim is suddenly in his office with no appointment and no warning. Of course Bruce also knows what meeting he's been in. Tim shuts the door after him. 

“It's not all about me,” He tells Bruce. Tim feels dizzy and short of breath and _elated_. He hasn't made progress in a case in so long and though this one is far from solved he's suddenly looking at it from a new, amazing angle. When Bruce simply stares at him like he's grown a second head and lost both his minds, Tim realizes that they're at work, in their daily, normal lives. Bruce is probably expecting him to go on a tirade about the newest setback in Research and Development or explain in excruciating detail how his meeting with the attorneys went. “Ra's plans,” He clarifies and swears Bruce looks almost relieved before his gaze sharpens again. “ _I'm_ the distraction. I'm the misdirection. We're all paranoid that he wants me or wants to hurt her but he's up to something else ."

Something like pride lights up behind Bruce's eyes. Tim can tell that he's been on the edge of thinking the same, but hasn't quite tipped over to that side yet. “What's he here for, then?”

Tim shakes his head. “I'm not entirely sure yet,” He admits. His mind is working but he's not that brilliant yet. “But those chemicals he was destroying? We thought they were a weapon and they can be. But mostly they're used to stabilize the production of drugs that assist with night terrors and other psychiatric issues.” Why hadn't he seen it before? Why had that flash only come to him in the elevator, riding away from Lucas Powers and all he represented? Tim isn't used to being blinded. Being stupid.

“Issues that could be brought on by fear toxin,” Bruce realizes. 

Tim nods. “And the Scarecrow escaped two weeks ago with a little outside help.”

Bruce leans back in his chair, contemplating. Tim is happy enough that he's shifting from foot to foot, pacing and not caring about anything else that happened in that room. Ra's isn't after him. Ra's isn't after his child. Lucas Powers is nothing when you think you have the League of Shadows interested in you. "We'll have to be on guard," Bruce says. "And we're behind since..."

"Since all our resources were wasted on me," Tim finishes and smirks at the protest Bruce tries to make. "No, don't. I'm glad you had my back on this. But we have work to do."


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim has something that is definitely not a baby shower, despite the presence of cake and gifts. The remaining former Robins bond and it's over threatening a certain alpha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a side-story that got incorporated into the main story so please ignore any chronological errors as to how pregnant Tim is or what information everyone knows. I tried to fix it in the post edit but I have a suspicion I didn't keep track of what Dick in particular knew at what point. That said, there was a demand for more bat-sibling bonding over the potential new arrival and what is sibling bonding without a little violence? Other than that, no warnings for this chapter. Enjoy what so many of you apparently wanted in your dark little hearts. 
> 
> ...actually that might have been Lucas dead so you don't get all of that but you get something. As always, feedback and reviews are appreciated and are taken into account!

"Wait," Tim says suddenly. "Is this a baby shower?"

Damian looks like an angry thundercloud. Jason, in his position by the door, looks a little shocked. Dick, however, seems entirely delighted with the idea. 

"It can't be a baby shower," Damian snarls. "There are two alphas here."

"Co-Ed baby showers are trendy," Dick argues. "Very chic. I bet Tim Drake Wayne would have a co-ed shower with a gender matching cake and all of that." It was disturbingly close to what Ashley the radiology technician had suggested. Tim blinks, thinking Dick missed his calling both in terms of career and in terms of secondary sex. 

"Not a baby shower," Jason agrees and looks desperately around for some proof of that. The restaurant they agreed to meet in has secured a small, private room for them and it's well decorated. There are wrapped gifts stacked in the corner. Tim and Damian are sipping some kind of punch produced in lieu of anything alcoholic. "There's no cake!" He announces triumphantly. "No cake. Can't be a baby shower." 

Dick grabs the waiter by an arm as he refills the water pitcher on the table. "Can we get some cake? Just a few pieces in here." The waiter nods, eager to help. 

"Any particular flavor? Color?" He opens a menu to the dessert page and drops it in front of Tim. Tim has forgotten the place is connected to a bakery but suddenly he's starving. He's tried to cut down on the amount of sugar he's ingesting. It makes him a little nauseated still and he doesn't want to lose any weight and get scolded at his next doctor's appointment. 

"Chocolate ganache," Damian cuts in before Tim really looks at the menu. His gaze focuses on the colors of icing they can add for decoration. 

"That's fine," Tim agrees. "Green icing?" The waiter nods and heads off. Dick and Damian turn to stare expectantly at him. "What?" He asks. "Executive decision if this is my not a baby shower." 

Damian frowns. "You picked green," He points out. "The child is a male, then?"

"No," Dick argues. "A girl. Because the other choice was blue, wasn't it? And they both start with g. Green for a girl." 

"Grayson," Damian snaps. "Don't be ridiculous." 

Dick is about to argue again when Tim interrupts. Jason seems almost disappointed, gleeful about the potential fight between two alphas about the implications of the color of the icing Tim had picked. Tim reaches out to punch him in the leg. It's not subtle. "I just like green," He explains with a shrug. "It doesn't mean anything. She's still a girl." 

"As far as you know," Damian answers, leaning over the table at him to stare at his face. Tim blinks. Damian leans even closer and Tim worries he might get his face bitten off. Damian is getting bigger; alpha designation and Bruce being responsible for that. Tim is used to being smaller and slighter than most of his family but there's still that irrational panic that one day Damian will figure out how to stuff him in a locker and leave him there. At least right now the baby protects him from that fate. Mainly because his stomach is too round to comfortably wedge him inside a locker. "Maybe you picked it subconsciously to communicate that the ultrasound was incorrect. There is a failure rate, you know."

"They've double checked. I've double checked," Tim replies, trying not to scoot back. Alphas in his space set his nerves on edge now in a way they never used to. He can feel Jason approaching the back of his chair, dropping into the seat beside him where he had been before. He feels like Jason is eyeing the cutlery on the table, deciding which to stab into Damian's wrist if he reaches out. "So I couldn't subconsciously communicate something I don't think is true." 

Dick squeals. It breaks the tension. "You didn't want to find out in the delivery room? 

"What if they announce it wrong?" Damian asks. "What if they tell you one sex when it is another in the hopes of kidnapping your baby and switching it for another?"

"He's been watching soap operas," Dick says apologetically when Jason snarls. 

Tim has almost had the same thoughts, without the benefit of fantasy shows to ease it over. "Jason will tell me," Tim replies firmly, like this is a stable and reasonable plan. "He can memorize the baby's features once she is out so I'll know if they try an exchange."

It's apparently not, because Dick and Damian are staring at him and Jason is trying hard _not_ to stare at him. 

"Jason will be in the delivery room?" Dick ventures cautiously and Tim is struck by how hard it is for all of them to be in the same room. Tim is on good terms with Dick and Damian. Better terms with Jason. Jason is not on good terms with anyone except Tim. 

Tim nods an affirmative. "I want him in there. Another set of eyes." Protection, should anything go wrong. 

"I could go with you," Dick offers instantly. Jason gives a low, rumbling growl that makes Tim shiver. Damian bares his teeth in response, eager to defend Dick and Dick just looks stricken, torn between the two of them. "It's just," He continues. "I'm an alpha. People listen to us more, you know? So I could get the baby out of danger faster."

"And leave Tim bleeding on the table?" Jason snaps. "I don't think so, dickface." 

"I wouldn't leave Tim," Dick protests. "But sometimes you have jobs that need an alpha's touch." 

"Like delivering a baby," Jason counters and rolls his eyes. "Yeah, giving birth has definitely always been an alpha's game." 

Damian huffs. "You are one to talk, Todd. You might be omega but you may as well be a sexless freak. If there's anything worse than an omega who won't do their duty it's one that postures like an alpha. Pretender." 

Tim slams his hand down on the table, rattling the glassware. They pause in their argument to look at him and he has to force himself not to burst into tears. He's not upset, really. He's cold and empty and so full of rage that he's glad he has his opposite hand on the swell of his stomach to remind him why he doesn't lunge across the table at anyone. "It's what I want," He reminds them. "And I want Jason in there. I trust him to protect me. I trust him to protect the baby. That's it. That's all. None of this alpha bullshit."

It sounded like something Jason would say. Tim had never had any trouble with the alphas of their family. Dick was typically gentle and understanding. Bruce was already in a patriarch role such that him being an alpha didn't feel unnatural. Damian had been annoying, but his posturing was more like a puppy than an adult and Tim had been able to ignore it. Until now. "And I'm not doing this because it's my duty," He adds toward Damian. "I'm doing it because I want to."

Fortunately, they are saved from further argument by the timely arrival of the cake. Tim feels a little sick but he's also going to eat every bite and enjoy it. Pregnancy does some weird things. He can see Dick shift like he's kicking Damian under the table and Damian glares at him, but he finally simply bites his lip as he cuts into his piece of cake. "Congratulations," He says stiffly. "Father, Grayson and I will stand guard outside the room, then. That way Todd won't have to deal with outside threats."

Jason seems about to make a quip so Tim cuts him off. "Thank you. That will be very helpful but I don't anticipate any problems." Still, it's nice to know that he has the backing of his family at this moment. That even if he's unable to defend the baby, someone will do so. It soothes those wild instincts inside of him. Jason's fingers find his own under the table and he squeezes them. A silent reassurance that they won't need to call for back up because he will neutralize any threat, omega or not. 

Conversation remains fairly neutral after that. Tim enjoys the cake and the sugar buzz it gives him. When he looks to Dick, Dick is smiling and Tim traces his gaze to Jason, who has a bit of chocolate on his nose somehow. He's about to say something when Dick lifts out of his seat and leans toward Jason, who looks entirely wary. "Come here. You've got something on your face."

Side-eyeing Tim with a panicked look, Jason does lean forward. Instead of wiping his face off, however, Dick darts forward and licks the chocolate off the bridge of his nose. Tim gasps. Damian's fork falls out of his hand. This will be bad. They will have to buy the restaurant to pay for all the damages this is going to cause. Dick, an alpha, licking an omega Jason like he's a baby in their family. 

Except, Tim remembers, Jason is for Dick. Jason's his younger brother, in his way. 

Jason scrunches his face up. "Dude," He says simply. "That's nasty. Use your napkin. We're not animals and it's a damn shame when I have better table manners than you do."

"Next time," Dick vows. "It will be a kiss." But he looks elated. Thrilled beyond belief he managed to do that. If Tim didn't know better he'd say Damian is watching him jealously. Good. Little brat needs a taste for how it feels to share Dick's affections. 

"I will shoot you in the mouth before that happens," Jason answers easily. "Are any of those presents for me?"

Damian snorts. "Really, Todd. They are all for the infant." 

"Why aren't Bruce and Alfred here?" Tim questions. "Since I'm assuming they bought most of those. Is this some kind of sibling bonding exercise?"

Dick is already bringing the presents to pile them near Tim. "Actually most of this is from me. And Damian. Some from Babs. Bruce is just going to give you money, I think, and Alfred is stocking the practicals. They didn't want to embarrass you." 

"Too late," Jason quips. "They embarrass him by existing." 

Tim grins. He picks up the first present. Inside are a pair of booties, impossibly tiny and embroidered with the insignia of Nightwing. He puts them on his fingers, wiggling them critically at Dick. 

"You have no idea how much I had to pay for those," Dick replies. "Open the next one. There's a matching onesie."

It goes pretty much like that. Dick and Tim show the most interest in the baby gifts. How tiny some are. How soft others feel. Jason keeps watch, sometimes glancing over but otherwise keeping his distance. Tim's seen Jason in the almost-nursery before, sorting through the few things they do have for the baby. Tim's never brought attention to it, never pointed out something that could be considered such an omega behavior. Tim, personally, is a little frightened by how little the clothing items are. Even at this stage, the baby doesn't feel so small inside him. 

Damian sometimes picks up a gift after Tim is done, examining it. He knows what Damian picked out based on the color scheme and potential violence of the object. A black and red baby food maker is definitely from him, judging by the advertisement of super sharp blades on the box. Society has come a long way from the days when alphas wouldn't even touch a baby who wasn't theirs until it was at least a year old, not wanting to get their scent on it. Ancient social structure was fascinating to Tim, but he was completely glad it was gone. It's bad enough with the suspicious looks he gets being unmarried and pregnant. At least he has the safety of a good name and wealth.

Dick, even now, manages to be a puzzle. He explains some of the more bizarre baby devices to Tim and Jason. Jason creeps closer once in a while, examining their haul which is enough that Tim feels some of his internal panic at not having anything ready for the baby ease. They have plenty of time but he keeps postponing these things. He had firmly insisted, over and over, to not have any type of traditional baby shower. Apparently this was what he was getting instead. 

And he likes it. He feels relaxed. Happy. Even with two alphas in the room and another omega who might as well be one of the alphas for all his posturing. None of them are dominant, all of them have family bonds, and it's...nice. Once they get past secondary sexes. He spares a thought for the baby inside him, for what he or she will turn out to be and how it will sway the balance to either side. Tim is drowning in alphas, pretty much, but he wouldn't mind one more. It might even be fun watching Jason try to raise a baby alpha. 

“Sorry not a lot of it is pink,” Dick says, rubbing the back of his head. “I started buying things when I found out you were pregnant. I didn't really think about you having a girl.” 

Tim snorts. “Actually I kind of like it. Not that I mind dressing her in pink but it's nice to have options, right?” And now he has several in clothing even if Dick had veered more toward things like swings and bounces and monitors. “Better than what some people tried to send me. Like he can buy me off with organic fair trade alpaca wool booties and a baby blanket with the name of his company on it.” 

There's not much of a mystery who he's speaking about. Tim is so grimly focused on the table that he misses the look the three others share. Judging. Deciding. So far Tim has done an admirable job keeping Lucas away but now...

“I thought there was something like a restraining order,” Dick offers lightly. 

“Not one he's obeying. And I can't prove he sent the gifts so really there's no room for legal action.” But then Tim shakes his head. “I don't want to talk about this. Let's just enjoy the day, okay?”

“I have an ulterior motive,” Dick admits when they are done eating and the bill is paid and they are trying to gather up Tim's loot. Damian and Dick refuse to let him carry anything, but Jason relents and gives him some of the lighter bags because 'he's pregnant, not an invalid'. “I was seeing how this would go and I think it's gone well enough that we should keep it going. Movie night?”

Tim casts a look to the sky, where the sun is still bright over head. “Tonight?”

“Movie afternoon,” Dick corrects. “The manor?” 

Tim tries not to look at Jason. He's been to the manor, of course, many times. But it's not his favorite place. Still, Jason simply shrugs. “If you're not too tired and haven't eaten yourself into a coma. Why not? You can make them watch that educational movie.”

Tim shudders at the memory. “That's too gory even for Damian,” He announces, reflecting on the film of an omega giving birth to breech, decently sized twins. Naturally. 

“It's not!” Damian protests with no idea of what the movie is about. “I have seen men beheaded. No fictional nonsense could disturb me. You do not need to coddle me simply because I am younger than you are.”

Jason pops the trunk of Tim's car and they pile their presents into it. Tim tries not to grin evilly but from Dick's wary look and Damian's eager one, he doesn't think he quite passed that test. “Sure, I'll show you the movie,” Tim agrees. Maybe that will give him some respect for omegas. Jason had turned a little green and left the room, but Tim thinks that has more to do with the omega part than the blood part. 

Damian looks satisfied. Tim dares a ruffle to his hair and that makes Dick pull them all into a hug. It's a pointy hug, with a lot of elbows and hands trapped uncomfortable places. But Jason is a part of it and Damian doesn't shiv anyone and that's good enough. It's made better by the happy flutter he feels inside him. Still a little weird, but now a sensation he associates with the baby waking up for the day. 

“Alright, stop rubbing all your alpha stink on me,” Jason says, pulling away and brushing off his jeans like that will remove any lingering scent. “We'll meet you there.” 

There are worse ways to spend an afternoon.

~*~*~

"What was done to Drake can not stand." Those are the first words Jason hears when he answers Damian's call. He's been given instructions. Contacting Damian. Making sure Tim wasn't close enough to hear. He's currently leaned against the wall in his little-used apartment. 

He'd been expecting a murder confession. A tip on a drug dealer. An admission that Damian was hoarding kittens and was now in over his head. Not...this. Nothing about Tim. Damian's face is serious. His hands are folded in front of him like a super villain. Only the sight of Dick in the background, gleefully waving belays that idea.

"He's pregnant, Babybat," Jason says dumbly because he has no idea what else Damian can mean. He's trying not to panic because even through video, Damian smells panic and reacts like a shark with blood in the water. 

Damian snorts. "This is not about the act of his impregnation," He announces, then pauses and tips his head. "Well, perhaps it is. More specifically I was referring to the manner in which the potential source of his impregnation ended their relationship and now wishes to continue in a new line of it." 

Jason feels like his eyes are slightly crossed trying to work out what that means. "Tim dumped the guy," He says at last. “Tim can handle him now. I can handle him.” Damian looks at him like he's an idiot. Dick is creeping closer in the video, a troubled expression now on his features. 

"The cause of the ending of the relationship is unacceptable," Damian continues. "He dishonored Drake by forming a sexual liaison with him while married. He dishonors him further by threatening to go to the press with news of the product of their relationship."

"Are you worried for Tim?" Dick asks from nearby. Jason can hear that he's practically about to explode with joy and pride. "That's great!"

There's the sound of flesh hitting flesh; Damian no doubt slapping Dick away. Jason sympathizes. "No," Damian says flatly. "But since Drake is, for some unknown reason, considered part of this family then a disgrace to him is also a disgrace to my name." 

"Of course," Jason replies, sarcasm heavy in his voice. "Because it's not the unmarried, pregnant omega part that the media is going to find disgraceful. It's the custody agreement." His stomach twists a little at those words. 

Damian rolls his eyes and looks long-suffering. "Don't be ridiculous, Todd. In this modern era it can be entirely respectable for an omega to raise a child outside the bonds of marriage.” Which is surprising coming from Damian but he continues before Jason can process it enough to comment on it. “No. What is disgraceful is that this buffoon thinks he has any sway over Timothy. Anything the Wayne name has claimed as its own is not to be trifled with.”

Jason is shocked. Dick must be about to burst with pride. If Jason listens hard enough he thinks he hears a high pitched and thrilled squeal. A moment later arms come into the frame and Damian is sucked into a hug. At least, Jason thinks it's a hug if the sound of frantic struggles and a hissed “This is serious, Grayson!” is any indication. 

Damian's hair is mussed when he appears on the screen again. “As I was saying.” With a glare at where Dick has to be standing. “This can not be allowed to stand. I would propose paying Mr. Powers a visit to inform him of this fact.” 

He looks so proud of his plan. And Jason can't say he hasn't been planning to put the fear of God (or Tim) in Lucas since he heard he was still contacting Tim. ”Both of us?” He asks. “You and me?”

“And me,” Dick says, sweeping back into frame and hovering behind Damian's shoulder. Without touching. “I care too.” 

“You're not our ranking alpha,” Jason informs him, instantly bristling at the idea. “You're not Tim's either.” 

Dick holds up his hands in an attempt to appease him. “If anything I'm just there to make sure you two don't get out of hand. I'm not going to call dibs on first punch or anything.”

“Then we are permitted to punch him over our family honor?” Damian questions. 

“Didn't say that, Little D,” Dick argues. But Jason is already grinning and misses the rest of their fight. He's been contemplating how to go find the alpha who might be the father of Tim's baby. Of _his_ baby. Tim hasn't made him promise he'll avoid Lucas Powers but it's been heavily implied. 

Still. Tim also heavily implies he should do more with Dick and Damian. So it all evens out, doesn't it?

~*~*~

“The nerve,” Damian snarls, slamming one small fist against the window of Dick's car. Dick has engaged the child locks, leaving them trapped inside it in the parking garage of the hotel Lucas Powers is staying at. It's obviously a management trick he's learned from Alfred. “He should not go unpunished for this slight! An alpha can not simply take what he wants even if it is an omega or a child!”

“I'm not sure how to feel about that statement,” Jason cuts in. He's not sure how to feel about most of this. He had tucked Tim onto the couch with his laptop before heading out, telling him that he was going out with Dick and Damian. The look of curiosity and pleasure on his face made Jason feel a little guilty. “Like do you mean Powers is a shitheel in general or in particular because he preys on omegas?”

Damian leans between the seats to jab Jason viciously in the ribs with two fingers. At least he's not wearing gloves. Dick had established a firm no costumes policy for this trip. “I respect omegas,” Damian reminds him. “My arguments with Drake have nothing to do with what he is.” 

Jason has pretty much always assumed that but it's nice to hear it confirmed. What is less nice is trying to decide how much Damian knows and how he knows it. Jason knows about the meeting with Lucas. He knows about the threats that keep Tim stirred up and angry. But Damian, it seems, saw the encounter. And it seems he even knows things Tim doesn't. 

“How do you know so much?” He asks when curiosity gets the best of him. Dick finally agrees to lift the child lock's in the car when they repeat that they won't resort to physical violence without a reason and Batman's name is not to be uttered. “About this,” Jason clarifies when Damian stares at him with contempt. 

Damian snorts. He's standing spread eagle and Dick is patting him down for weapons. Not that weapons make him any less lethal but Jason can agree with removing the temptation. Of course when he'd said that, Damian volunteered him for a weapons pat down too. “As I said,” He repeats calmly. “The Wayne name is at stake.” 

It plays to Jason again. Not that Damian considers Tim a Wayne but that two other people in this situation hold that name. “He went after Bruce,” Jason says with a cold, sinking realization. “He thinks he can blackmail Bruce to make this go in his favor?” He's _furious_. It's a visceral reaction, a rage he hasn't felt in a long time. It makes his vision fade green. How dare Lucas Powers go after Tim? Their child? And then Bruce? How dare he expect Bruce to bring Tim to heel?

Damian sneezes. It draws Jason back enough that he realizes Dick has moved to him and is petting his hair. He looks concerned. “You sure you can handle this, Little Wing?” Dick asks. Jason sniffs. There's no scent over Dick's normal one. He's not trying to cow or convince him. There' s a faint metallic scent. The Lazarus Pit, Jason realizes, and the reason Damian has scrunched up his face. Kid smells it more intensely and knows the scent. Probably doesn't associate it with good things. Jason can't blame him. 

Jason takes a breath. Then another. He thinks of Tim at home. He thinks of the roll of their baby under his palm. He thinks of this asshole alpha who could be a threat to all of that. He can't kill him. He can't even beat him to a pulp. His brothers are his best bet in making sure Lucas stays well away from Tim and the baby. 

“I can handle it,” Jason says. “And I think Damian is going to do all the talking so I'll just stand there menacingly.” As hard as it is for him to give the reins to someone else. “Unless you decide you kill him, I mean.” 

“Right,” Dick agrees, relaxing a little bit. “But I'm still going to have to take that gun in your pocket.” 

“How do you know I'm not just happy to see you?” Jason counters. 

Damian makes a noise of disgust. 

They take the elevator up together. No one in the hotel bats an eyelash at their presence, which is probably a good thing. Jason assumes any security footage will be taken care of later. But they aren't here as vigilantes. No, they're here as family. It's a little unsettling; the thought and being in close quarters with two annoyed alphas as they ride up to the penthouse suite. Jason is glad he briefed them on the way over about not telling Lucas anything about Tim's baby being a girl or when she's due. Damian is a force to be reckoned with basically always, but Jason knows Dick has a temper on him and a tendency to break things in fits of rage. He's mostly grown out of it, but Jason remembers a lamp hurtling across the room during a particularly vicious argument with Bruce. 

Lucas answers the door in suit pants and an undershirt. “About time you got here with din-” He stops. He stares at the three dark haired men in front of him and immediately tries to slam the door. Dick sticks his foot in the way, grinning for all the world like it's an accident and this is a social call. 

“I think we should talk,” Dick says. “I mean, you told me to look you up any time and now is a time.” 

Lucas's face is carefully bland of any expression as he surveys them. Jason knows he's scenting them, that they are doing the same to him. He can see his anxiety skyrocket but that's more visual cues than olfactory. “You didn't have to bring anyone.” 

Dick shrugs. “You know my brother, Damian.” Damian looks like an angry, tiny dog, Jason thinks. The kind with the pretty hair that ride in purses and rip your face off when you rile them up. “And this is our...associate.” 

Jason gives a tiny finger wave. He can deal with being an associate. He's taller than Lucas by a few inches, he's pleased to note. Lucas is well muscled in a way it seems only alphas can be. His hair is golden and Jason's stomach twists at the thought of Tim's baby being born with a mop of pale hair though he knows that's not a genetic likelihood either. Lucas Powers is handsome; Jason can't fault Tim for his taste even if it gives him the temptation to carve up that handsome face. If he's not mistaken, there's still a little bit of swelling around his jawline. Good. 

“You signed a legal contract stating you would have no contact with Timothy Drake until the birth of his child,” Damian states. It sounds rehearsed but Jason knows it isn't. “Yet you persist in offering him gifts and trying to sway him even when he doesn't return your interests.” 

Lucas relaxes. The poor bastard thinks this is all about a few presents instead of the fact that they are all hungry for the revenge Tim won't take for himself at the moment. “Really that's between Tim and myself, right? I haven't been near him since I signed the contract.” 

“Gifts constitute contact with him,” Damian replies. “I've consulted the legal department.” 

“I didn't send any gifts,” Lucas returns smoothly. He thinks he's won. Jason wants to punch him in his teeth. He tries to close the door again but Dick just flips his leg to make it open even wider. That gets some alarm. 

“Leave Tim alone,” Dick says softly in that voice that means there are about to be fireworks of the not pretty variety. “Leave my brother alone. Leave his baby alone.” 

Lucas snorts. “This is what you're reduced to? Your father tries to buy me off to waive my paternal rights and when that doesn't work he sends his boys out with hired muscle to threaten me?”

Jason hadn't known Bruce tried to buy Lucas off to get him out of the picture. Dick clearly hadn't either. But Damian? Damian knew and it's not disapproval of the plan that Jason sees in his face. “Nothing of the sort,” Dick is answering casually. “But my brother quite honestly hates you and none of us are fond of you and why do you want to deal with any of that? Just walk away.” 

“Bruce knows the baby is mine,” Lucas replies. Jason's heart seizes. He's taking a step forward, overcome by a kind of cold rage. “Why else would he try to bribe me?” He continues. 

Jason feels Damian's shoulder nudge him. Bruce doesn't know for certain, then. There had been no covert paternity test. Lucas is assuming, the same as any of them. 

“Powers,” Damian snaps. “None of this is up for debate. You will remove yourself from Timothy's life until he contacts you when gestation has completed.” And Jason would laugh at the phrasing if he wasn't so angry. Lucas seems like he's about to protest. He sneers. He makes a sound and Damian steps forward, staring at him. He might have his mother's eyes but, Jason notes, he's all Bruce in body language in this moment. “I'll repeat myself once. Our terms are not negotiable. You will obey the terms of the contract or it will no longer be enforceable and binding.” 

“What?” Lucas asks and Dick's head cranes, trying to understand. 

“It won't be binding because you will be dead,” Damian explains flatly. “Or unreachable, at the least. For as long as it takes them to declare you legally dead.” 

“Are you threatening me?” Lucas asks. 

Jason smirks. “Sure looks that way,” He says with a shrug. Lucas's dark eyes flicker to him, probably unsettled that Jason smells like nothing and seems like he really will have him dead by morning. 

Dick shoots him a look. “Of course not. Damian is just telling you a possible scenario. I mean, you might get hit by a bus when you're trying to leave gifts outside Tim's place.” 

“I could easily learn to drive a bus,” Damian adds. 

Jason still wants to punch Lucas. But he's actually kind of impressed by Damian's ability to channel his wrath into something constructive. 

“It's easy,” Dick says quietly but there's iron in his tone. “Don't fuck with Tim any more and we don't fuck with you. You'll hear from him when it's appropriate.” 

Damian cracks his knuckles. “He likes easy though, right? Isn't that what you said? Easy, slutty omegas?”

Jason hasn't been privy to exactly the threats and slanders Lucas directed toward Tim. At this moment he's kind of glad he hasn't been because that rage is back inside him and nothing Tim would have said when all this was fresh and new and insecure would have stopped him from trying to kill Lucas Powers. 

Lucas, fortunately, doesn't say anything. He just stands there and fear rolls off him in waves. Probably he never thought Tim would share everything with them. Or, at least, as much as he has. He thought Tim was fighting this battle alone and Jason can't even mark that against him because Tim himself thought he was on his own handling this.

“I think we've made our point,” Dick says at last because Jason has taken another step forward and Damian's fingers are twitching like they usually do when he's about to break someone's bones for especially pissing him off. The fierce look on Dick's face turns to a smile that might even be charming if you didn't see the rage in his eyes. Jason's always been alternately unsettled and impressed by Dick's ability to do that. “I think Mr. Powers is smart enough to know we'll be watching.” 

“Very, very closely,” Damian agrees and punches the button for the elevator since Dick is still holding the door open. Jason slides to help him under the guise of letting Dick get closer to Damian. 

Both his brothers turn toward the elevator. Jason leans in toward Lucas. “They might not threaten you but I will,” Jason murmurs. He knows that if Tim's baby also belongs to Lucas that Lucas will see him again as Tim's partner. That he'll put these pieces together. He doesn't care. “Come near him again without his permission and I will string you up by your guts and leave you to bleed to death.” 

Or he'll just shoot him in the face. The first sounds more dramatic. He moves away from Lucas, who can't seem to slam his door fast enough. The elevator arrives and they all know security won't be fast enough to stop them from simply strolling out of the hotel. If Lucas is even dumb enough to call for security. 

“I think that went well,” Damian announces as they head down. He looks to Dick. “Now. I believe I was promised a reward for not resorting to physical violence.” 

Dick groans. “You up for some nasty vegan ice cream, Little Wing?”

Jason shakes his head. “Even though you make it sound so appealing, I think I'll pass.”

Dick sighs. “Can't imagine why.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked me about the time frame involved in this story and to be honest I didn't actually write it with anything in mind. But judging by the weather that gets mentioned off and on, the baby will be born in late November to mid December. That's a specific due date, right? This chapter in particular takes place in late November. 
> 
> ...so you know what that means, right? You know what chapter is next? <3


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inclement weather and villainy combine for the start of what is probably going to be a wild and very memorable night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I divided this up into three chapters for some reason. Apparently I just really, really cared about this event enough to have Tim miserable for that long. That said, I have a backstory for Tim (similar to "Decisions" for Jason) that needs to be posted so I'll take a vote. After the baby arrives? In the middle of the chapters to give it a spacer? Let me know!
> 
> Reviews are always read and appreciated. I'm loving them for this story since usually they're so heartfelt and hilarious. Thanks so much! It almost makes me feel bad to tease. I'll try to get the next chapter posted a little earlier!
> 
> Warnings for this chapter are mild. Some children in peril and Tim is going to be in some pain. That will continue.

Jason's hands have always felt like heaven on him. Tim normally isn't so greedy but his back really, really hurts. He's tempted some days to tell Bruce he now knows what it must have felt like having his back broken but maybe that's a little melodramatic. Today it doesn't feel dramatic at all. The pain has been a result of stress from the past couple of weeks, but today it is especially bad. It comes in waves. 

Jason pours a little more lotion onto his hands and presses his thumbs into the small of Tim's back. Tim groans and he'd be arching up if he didn't have what feels like a weight strapped to his front. “Shit,” He murmurs. 

“Watch your language baby bird,” Jason teases. “You're starting to sound like me. And we need one good influence on the kid, don't we?”

Tim whines again and wants to scold him, but Jason is working out a particularly stubborn knot. The pain comes and goes, and Jason surprisingly can't knock it completely out today. It's certainly helping him ease down, however. He's never liked dealing with executives from rival companies. He likes them even less when they're staring at him like he might give birth on the conference table at any moment. He still refuses to accept Bruce's recommendation that he go ahead and start his parental leave.

They've had the news playing on the television in the background and Tim glances up as Jason pauses in rubbing his back. It's a stand off. A hostage situation the police seem to have well in hand. Except Tim knows it's in Red Hood's neighborhood, and that there's at least twenty kids caught in the building. Not held at gun-point like the three adults, but close enough. Why were that many kids so close by?

“There's something off about it,” Jason says. “Did you see the view of the guy? He looked terrified. Not like someone who wants to take a building full of people hostage. Why go after a daycare? And right at closing time?”

Jason looks stricken, so Tim nudges him. “Go,” He says softly. He knows how Jason feels about kids, and especially the kids that grow up like Jason had. 

There's a pause that wouldn't have been there even two months before. They've bonded too closely. Jason doesn't want to leave him in pain. Tim shakes his head and pushes Jason a little more firmly. “I'll take a bath or something. That's more important than you giving me a back massage.” 

Jason is off him in a flash and Tim is jealous and envious of how quickly he can move. Tim has barely gotten himself off the bed by the time Jason is fully geared up, except for the helmet. He kisses Tim quickly and pats his stomach affectionately. “Lock up tight after I leave.” 

Tim nods. He's not taking any chances with an open apartment. He sees Jason propel to the building across the street and then he locks the doors and sets the security system up. He keeps the news on, even knowing that they probably won't report on or even notice the Red Hood's arrival. 

He's surprised at how much his back hurts without Jason there to rub it. Tim makes an attempt to coax the kinks out himself, easing into some of the less complicated yoga positions he's learned. He doesn't want to try something too impressive and get stuck that way with no one to help him. He puts an earpiece in afterward and leaves the line open in case Jason needs to talk to him before making himself some tea and settling in for a night of monitoring. 

It turns out there's not a lot to monitor. He checks in on Dick who is trying to contain a nightclub full of people who are all convinced the place is on fire and the doors are locked. Damian is chasing down a street gang that seems to have no purpose other than running through the streets and savagely breaking any streetlights they find. Barbara is coordinating her Birds of Prey over similar stunts and Bruce himself is tracking a lead on Scarecrow.

Tim takes a shower, staying under the hot spray way too long. He wonders if he's come down with a virus or something. He's sick to his stomach a few times that he tries to manage as quickly as possible and he aches all over. But at the same time, perhaps he's not sick, because he's wildly energetic. He checks on the empty nursery and finishes putting away the clothing he's just washed before doing another load of laundry. The kitchen is spotless in another hour and a thought hits him suddenly. He finds the link to Bruce's communicator. 

“Red Robin to Batman,” He says, and it's necessary since he's not usually in contact for missions any more. “It's starting. The little distractions tonight are fear gas. They are gearing up for something worse.” 

Maybe Batman already knew. He only makes a brief sound of acknowledgment. “Roads are supposed to ice over by midnight. That should contain some of it, but it will also make it more difficult for emergency services.” 

“I'll warn them,” Tim says. “Red Robin out.” He makes the calls, warning the police of the incoming issue. But within half an hour he's pacing the living room, staring at the news report, willing Jason to contact him. 

Hostage situations are tricky things, Tim knows. Even worse if the hostage taker is on some kind of drug. If he were Jason he would be taking the children to safety as quietly as possible, one or two at a time. That's going to take some patience to not alert the guy with the gun or with his own body rigged to explode. That had been a new detail; he wonders if Jason would have hesitated more knowing a bomb was involved. 

He's on the couch with a heating pad on his back, nibbling some crackers as he tries to soothe his knotted stomach, when he feels it. He's had contractions before but this one is strong, devastating, ripping across his abdomen until he's gritting his doubling over like that might give him some relief. It doesn't of course. 

“Red Robin,” He hears Oracle say through the communication link. “Scarecrow has been located and he has help. Batman is in pursuit but it would be nice to have a list of places his accomplices are likely to attack.”

Tim almost laughs. Of course Bruce would need him now, and of course it would be when he's in labor.

It's only thirty-seven weeks as of yesterday. Not unheard of, of course, for labor to begin at this stage and he's early term, but not premature. First labors can take hours. Days, even. He has time. He can't get himself to the hospital and he can't call anyone, but he can wait. He just hopes the baby can as well.

“Got it,” He tells Oracle. “I'll send the list to him.” He pulls up his information with a map of the city, trying to distract himself both from the pain and from Jason's activities. “Ow,” He says as another contraction stabs at him. Radiating from his back, he feels now. There's no one around to make fun of him for the way he rocks and shifts or the words he whispers during it. He should probably get all the swear words he wants out now before anyone can scold him. 

~*~*~

“On the count of three,” Jason tells the gathered children. “We're going to hurry over to the policemen, alright? Don't run, but hurry. Everyone have a buddy?”

There are eighteen kids gathered around him on the ground level of the building. He had wanted to remove them to the police as quickly as possible but there was no way to exit the building without being seen. He couldn't risk tripping a wire and killing the kids he'd left behind; they had to all get out at once. 

There are eighteen serious pairs of eyes on him and some of the older children are nodding. They've linked hands in groups of fours or fives. He's tried to pair older, responsible looking kids with the younger ones, but the system isn't perfect. Still, they don't have far to go. “Alright,” He says. “Don't let go of your buddy. And no matter what you hear behind you, don't turn around. We're going to stay close to the side of the building until I tell you and then you're going to do what to the policemen?”

“Hurry to them,” A little boy answers and there are more nods of agreement. Red Hood won't actually be joining them in the hurrying process, but it's easier to have them think they'll all be doing the same thing. 

He guides them out a formerly boarded up fire exit. He hopes it was boarded up when this psycho decided to take over the building rather than before. It's not like he expects a child care center in this neighborhood to be fully up to code but it would be nice to know the charges inside wouldn't burn alive if there was an emergency. The kids hug the side of the building, and a few of the toddlers are crying but quickly being hushed. It's now or never. 

Red Hood ushers the little groups down an alley and nudges the first toward the police car closest to them. They hurry and it doesn't take much time for the cop there to notice them. Thankfully, he stays quiet. No shouting. No drawing attention. Thank God he got a competent one, Jason thinks, and sends the second group when the first is safely caught. There's no gunshots. In his worse thoughts, he's imagined the children gunned down by the nutcase floors above them.

He repeats the process until he runs out of kids and there's a certain release of tension knowing that they're, at least, safe. The cops are still trying to bargain the guy down and that gives Jason a chance to look at the vest of explosives he's wearing. It takes under a minute to determine it isn't real. 

The take down is swift and brutal. Red Hood leaves him alive, but only barely, and there's only a slight injury to a hostage before Jason is out of the building and the cops are in. It's gone well, for how long it's taken, but something unsettles Jason. Maybe it was the look of wild panic in the eyes of the perp, echoed in the eyes of the hostages even as they were being rescued. 

“You still awake, baby?” He asks after he activates his comm device. Snow has turned to sleet and he could definitely use something to warm him up when he's being hit with ice pellets from the sky.

He's not surprised when he gets a reply but he is surprised by Tim's tone. “Scarecrow is loose,” Tim tells him, voice strained. “Be careful.” 

Jason has to remind himself there's no reason for Tim to be out of the apartment. He has to know Scarecrow is loose based on someone else alerting him. “T?” He asks more seriously. “What's wrong?”

A laugh comes through, but it does nothing to soothe Jason. It sounds hurt. Tim is hurt. “Can't slip anything by you, huh?” He asks. “Wear your helmet, even if you think nothing's in the air.”

“Tell me,” Jason orders. “You're still home, right?” Please, please don't let Tim have decided to do something stupid. 

“Home,” Tim confirms. “Just...in labor.”

“It's early,” Jason says calmly but he starts to run. He can get there faster cutting across rooftops. He can't think of anything else to say. Tim doesn't answer a moment and Jason's heart beats into his throat. “Come on, T. Answer me.” 

He takes a jump and nearly slides all the way off the next roof. It's slippery. A layer of ice has formed on it and, looking down to the street he came perilously close to smashing down toward, the roads aren't in much better condition. Shit. 

Tim huffs out a breath. “It hurts,” He whispers and it's enough to distract Jason from his own pain at having fallen. That's even worse, because all of them have an unbelievably high pain tolerance. Tim is admitting it hurts like a normal person comments on the weather and that is highly abnormal for them. “She's okay,” He adds after a moment. “I'm okay. Her heart's good. It's early but it's not too early for her.” 

That's something to hold on to. Something that keeps Jason from full out sprinting back to Tim's apartment. It won't do any good if he slips to his death. “Did you call the doctor?”

“Was waiting for you,” Tim admits. “I thought it might be false labor but this is...ow, oh my God...this is definitely the real thing.” 

Jason bursts through the window fifteen minutes later. Fifteen minutes spent chit-chatting and with Jason trying not to panic. Tim has deactivated the alarms and is leaning against one of the kitchen counters, swaying back and forth. Jason can smell the pain and fear and desperation as he tears off his coat and helmet, instantly moving to comfort him. “Hey,” He murmurs. “Should you be standing up?”

Tim snorts, pressing his face into the bend of Jason's neck. “I'm having serious thoughts about reneging on everything I ever said about wanting this to be a painkiller free delivery. I've been trained to withstand torture and I'd rather do that than do this for another ten hours.” 

“Do what?” Jason asks, reaching for Tim's phone to find the doctor's number and their little checklist of what information they need to have on hand for the nurse on call. 

“Be tortured,” Tim answers, sucking in another breath and standing more upright as the contraction ends. “Contractions at least a minute long. Every five to six minutes. Baby's still moving, sometimes.” He presses his mouth to Jason's jaw. “Scarecrow and the League of Shadows out there. The gas hasn't gotten as widespread as usual. Seems to be more localized, this time.” That's a small blessing. Who would have thought working together that Scarecrow and the League of Shadows would do less damage than they could do individually? “More violent, though. More people in the streets trying to kill each other instead of just screaming.”

Jason listens. He knows it's bad out there. He's seen it for himself. He rubs Tim's belly, feeling it go as hard as rock. Tim leans against him as Jason calls and dutifully repeats the information to the on call nurse for the practice. “You're in Gotham?” She repeats, sounding dumbstruck when he gets to that part. “Honey, the roads in Gotham are closed. Something about a police pursuit of a masked nuisance and a winter weather advisory. One of our patients barely made it to Gotham General and that was by ambulance.” 

He wants to step away from Tim. He wants to issue threats and remind this woman how important this is. But she knows, Jason knows she knows from the way her voice shakes. “He's only thirty-seven weeks,” He says. 

“I have your file pulled up,” The nurse answers quietly. “Baby was breech last exam, but her lungs should be mature. Your partner was booked for a c-section in twenty two days. Have you been told otherwise?”

Jason remembers them setting the c-section date. He remembers the sick look on Tim's face. How he'd bought him ice cream on the way home and tried to convince him how lucky they were to know their daughter's birthday in advance. Apparently that was not going to be the case. “No. That was still a thing,” Jason manages.

The nurse on the phone makes a tutting sound. “I can tell Dr. Grace what's happening but he probably won't be able to get there. Everyone is getting stopped at the outskirts and sent back the way they came if they can get there at all. A lot of accidents .Traffic is gridlocked on the roads that are ice. So many people got caught so suddenly in the storm. I'll call you an ambulance...”

Jason drags Tim along to the couch, letting him collapse there. He's peering at him with large, worried eyes. “No,” He says. “I'll call one. I'll let the doctor know what's happening-” Which is when an explosion rocks their apartment. The entire building goes dark. The entire _block_ goes dark. The explosion is close, a few blocks away by the burst of light and the fact it's knocked out power. “Shit,” Jason says. 

“Mr. Drake?” The nurse prompts and Jason would think being called that was hysterical in any situation but this one. 

“We'll call back if we need help,” Jason tells her and disconnects. They need help, and they need it badly, but it's not the kind she can provide. “The roads were closed before that,” Jason informs Tim with a gesture as to the direction of the explosion. “The police are in on a few car chases and the hunt for Scarecrow.”

“Ra's has his assassins out for something,” Tim reasons, finding he's happier to slide back into those thoughts. It's something he can do to help. “Scarecrow is being used to send the city into chaos to distract. He has at least a few people running around blowing things up. Has to be a target or a theft.” 

Tim bites his lip suddenly, shifting in a way Jason knows is painful. “You want to call an ambulance?” 

Tim blows out a slow breath, rubbing a circle on his stomach. Jason knows he does that when he's stressed. “Ambulances are going to be tied up,” He says. “I don't really want to deliver this baby in the back of a moving vehicle. It's like the perfect storm of road conditions. Ice, a car chase, and crazed people trying to bash your windshield in.” He pauses, staring at the ceiling and looks almost guilty. “What do you think my chances of a Bat-assisted pick up are going to be?”

Jason isn't sure if he's relieved. “I'd say pretty good, baby bird. I'll set something up.” Surely someone will be able to spare them a lift to a hospital. 

“Baby has flipped around, by the way,” Tim says, gripping Jason's hand. He waits until his muscles are relatively relaxed before he guides him to press in. “That's her head. Right where it should be.” 

Jason smiles and hopes it's a sign of things falling into place.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim tries to get somewhere safe. Ra's and ninjas will not stand in his way. Tensions run high between Jason and Tim, but fortunately Alfred is there to smooth things over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of the three chapter labor saga. I absolutely adore the reviews for this every week; most of the time they are absolutely hilarious and entirely endearing. I'm thrilled people care so much about Tim's well-being in this. Or Lucas's death. But next week, actual baby time! No more teasing. 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter include mild violence and Tim still in a lot of pain.

"I think we should go to the manor," Tim repeats as soon as the contraction has faded. Jason has lit a few candles, casting the room into a comfortable glow as they wait for a generator to kick on or power to be restored. "Even if we can get to the hospital, we won't know anyone there. It's bound to be a madhouse with everything going on tonight and do you really want to be surrounded by people on fear gas?"

Jason doesn't. His face communicates that, but it also says he might take those people over the residents of Wayne Manor. He knows for sure they have to make some decision; the apartment certainly isn't equipped with medical supplies. They don't even have electricity.

"The doctor can't get to the hospital," Tim adds. "But he can get to the manor. That road is still open since it doesn't run through Gotham.” And of course he's pulling up that information on the computer. Even contractions aren't enough to keep his hands away from the keys. “The nurse said he's already trying to get into the city. He'll just have to detour to this road instead. The ice will be tricky but they brine those roads, too. We have medical equipment there. He always brings a nurse with him anyway. It would work." It's an odd thing, really. Tim feels fine between the contractions. The agony of them provides him the perfect opportunity to sink deep into thought, to work out problems. The current problem being how to get this child delivered, and where to deliver it.

He's even typing on his laptop between contractions, sending communications to Oracle to distribute appropriately. Jason would be impressed if he wasn't frantic. “There are better hospitals up toward the Manor, too. More highly rated.”

"And how are we going to explain having a full surgical unit at the manor?" Jason asks. "That might be as obvious as picking up the doctor's car in the jet and taking him to the hospital." Which was an idea they had briefly batted around before deciding that Batman probably wouldn't even do that for Bruce Wayne no matter how much support Bruce Wayne gave him. 

"We explain it with crazy rich people," Tim answers, making a vague gesture at nothing. "They have all kinds of complicated medical devices in their homes because why would they ever want to go somewhere public when a doctor can make a house call? Bruce Wayne is basically infamous for his polo injuries or whatever dumb sport he claims to be into." He sighs, reaching out to touch Jason's hand where he's balled it into a fist. "You have a say, too," He offers quietly. "But our choices are limited. We can't stay here. We can make it to a hospital with more staff but more unknowns. Or we can make it to the Manor which is safe but not as equipped. It does, however, have the bonus of a doctor we both know and relatively trust.” 

The manor feels safe to Tim. It might be his nesting instinct going insane but he likes the idea of the iron gates and the stone walls. He wants to shut the heavy doors and bury himself in a stack of blankets until this is over. But the manor isn't home to Jason. It hasn't been home in years. It's not safety for him. Nor is the hospital, however, and eventually he feels Jason curl his fingers around Tim's. "Fine," He says at last. He doesn't sound happy. Tim's not happy, exactly, but he's more accepting of their limited options. "You want to call the doctor or call to change pick up?”

Pick up has been more difficult to arrange than anticipated. Bruce is involved in a high-speed chase. Most of the city's capes are trying to contain the damage. Not even Alfred can safely navigate the roads though there's no doubt the man would try if they asked. Jason had been tempted to get the car and plow through police barricades until Tim pointed out that would attract way more attention than they needed and that's not even counting the ice. "Pick-up," Tim says at last and opens up a comm line. 

Dick is the most available, coming in from Bludhaven to help manage the crisis in Gotham. “Get on the roof,” he says when he answers Tim's page. He's finally being reasonable after a lot of hurried questions and noises that Tim can only hope are happy and congratulatory. “I have the plane. I can grab you two and drop you off, then swing back. I have to load up the plane with some airborne antidote to drop, anyway. No trouble.” He pauses. “It's really time, huh? Nervous?”

Tim hobbles over to pick up Jason's Red Hood gear. No way is he fitting into Red Robin's costume like this and their best bet, if anyone asks, is to have Red Hood be assisting in a rescue in the building. Red Hood looks out for omegas and children and a pregnant omega qualifies as both, right? They can't simply get to the roof of the building as Jason Todd and Timothy Drake and hope no one sees them. “Petrified,” Tim replies easily even if he's telling the truth. “What's going on out there?”

“Scarecrow's gas,” Dick tells him but he already knows that. “Massive property damage but no reported fatalities.”

“Great,” Tim says. “See you soon.” Jason is giving the doctor directions over the phone, trying to reassure him that they'll get to a hospital later if they can. He's also making it seem like they were already at the manor when he went into labor. He doesn't protest as Tim starts handing him the shed parts of his costume, putting them on in order.

They packed a bag for the hospital. Tim goes to get that next, pausing only once for another contraction. He's not sure if they are getting milder or if he's getting used to them, but this one feels different. His side aches for a moment as he leans against the wall, but the pain is gone again when he starts to move. He has his distractions. Now he needs to execute the plan. 

"Roof," He tells Jason when he finally hangs up. "Put on your helmet and if anyone asks, you're rescuing me. Nightwing will pick us up in ten. Can you get my laptop from the bedroom?"

Jason looks at the laptop open on the kitchen table. 

“The other laptop, Tim replies. Jason sighs. 

Jason is in the bedroom, rummaging around in the dark when Tim's phone rings. There's a number he doesn't know but he answers, hoping to hear Dr. Grace or even Dick saying he's arrived early. 

"I could have you there in five minutes, Timothy," Ra's says when he's answered and Tim wonders which of them has lost their mind. But he hadn't been talking to Dick on a secure line. They'd been keeping things vague enough to deny but Ra's seems to already know what's going on. “I would hate to see you or your child perish over something as foolish as a blackout.”

"Thanks, but no thanks," Tim replies casually, aware Jason is in the next room. It's a comforting thought. "We've got it handled." 

"I have medical staff on board a private plane," Ra's tells him and, God help him, that's a tempting thought. Tim doesn't think anything is wrong but there's still a voice yelling in the back of his head that there could be. "I was going to deliver them to one of your hospitals to assist with your crisis but I feel this detour would be necessary." 

Alarm bells are ringing. Inside Tim's head and outside in the street. "Why would you do that?" He asks and tries to sound casual. He has to pause and grit his teeth, feeling the beginning twinges of another pain. "What did you do, Ra's? Why are you here?"

"It appears a group I am somewhat responsible for creating has gone rogue," Ra's says easily, like these things happen every day and you sometimes unleash assassin squads into the world to cause mayhem. Maybe that does happen every day to him. And that certainly explains the group Dick mentioned. "I came to deal with the issue only to pick up your transmission. As it seems I am no longer able to chase my rogues, I thought I would offer assistance where I am able to do so.”

It's not an extremely likely story, but it's plausible. Tim tries to remember that Ra's doesn't realize they've found out his game yet. That Tim is the distraction for worse matters. He tries to listen to the background noise of the call. No helicopter, so it must not be started or Ra's must be away from it. The distant squeal of sirens is there. Tim starts to record the call.

Jason has returned with the laptop safely tucked into the case and he clips it to their bag, swinging that onto his shoulder. He gives Tim a questioning look, no doubt reading his anxiety. "Not that I don't appreciate the offer,” Tim says. “But get that staff to the hospital if that's what you intend to do. Quell your little rebellion. I have other arrangements," Tim answers. It's almost like he's talking to an overzealous uncle rather than a super villain with an unhealthy interest in him.

"You're certain? You are an omega alone, Timothy." But it's not scolding or even derisive. He's only pointing out what he feels is the obvious.

"I'm not alone," Tim answers and doesn't feel like it's a trap for Ra's to guess strength of numbers. "Go help my city." 

He disconnects and forwards the recording to Oracle. It's pretty self explanatory, and maybe she can trace the call. Jason takes the phone from him to slide it into a pocket. "Ra's?" He guesses. "You have that look you get when your brain is in overdrive. What the fuck is he doing here?" 

"Ra's," Tim confirms. "I think there was a plan between his agents and Scarecrow that went a little haywire tonight.” He hesitates, but eventually decides he has to bring it up. “You can...go with N, you know. Once I'm at the Manor you could go out." Tim hates that he says it, but he knows what's important here. It's not him. It's the city. Already he's angry at himself that he can't go out but keeping Jason from the action feels entirely too selfish. 

"Let's see how bad it gets," Jason answers, which lets Tim know he's been thinking about it. "Come on. The elevator won't be working since the power is out and those stairs are steep."

"Ugh," Tim says when they reach the roof. It's been a process to get up the stairs by the faint light of the flashlight. He's had to pause a few times just to breathe. It's not even the pain that is stealing his breath so much as it is the fact there's suddenly a lot of pressure on his lungs from the weight of the baby inside him. 

"You're here," Jason announces. Jason who had tried to lift him up the stairs only once when he paused and promptly stopped touching him at the snarl Tim offered. He could kind of sympathize. Tim was in pain. Tim was about to have a baby and he was being forced from the home he'd created for himself. No wonder he wanted to go to the Manor instead; he wanted to stay somewhere familiar. Jason glanced up, scanning the rooftop and his eyes fixed on two shadows. "Ah, shit," He muttered. "Get back in the stairwell and shut the door."

"Why?" Tim questioned, finally straightening from where he's been doubled over trying to catch his breath. Then he, too, sees the assassins that have been lying in wait. "Seriously?" He yelled. "Seriously, this? The phone call wasn't enough?" But Ra's had said something about rogue agents. And what better way to get back into your master's good graces than to bring him his sometimes enemy? Alive or not. 

There's not time to get back in the stairwell, even if Tim would have done it in the first place. The smaller of the assassins runs for Jason with a scream that sets Tim's hair on end and Jason nudges him away. A protective gesture. Except now Tim is left with his hand on his belly, staring down a would-be assassin. It's too close to what had happened before, when his arm had been broken, when the secret of the baby's existence had been brought to light. Tim feels a bolt of fear. He can't fight like he usually would be able to. His agility is shot. He doesn't have that much speed. Even his strength is limited. But more than afraid, Tim is angry. He's furious that anyone would get between him and a safe delivery. He's enraged that anyone would threaten his daughter's life this way.

The punch Tim delivers is almost enough to knock him over. He swings to get his balance back, leg hauling up as far as he can which happens to be into the assassin's groin. His heel follows, and even clad in slippers as he is, he hears the slide and crack of a dislocated knee cap. It's about that time that he has another contraction, yelping from the surprise of it, wondering if spontaneously vomiting on the assassin for old time's sake would be acceptable in this situation. 

"Breathe!" Jason calls to him. He's engaged with the faster assassin. It's actually pretty lucky for them the assassins had divided the way they did. Tim's not sure he could follow those quick movements that Jason is dodging with ease. "Blow out like through a straw!" So, okay, Jason had been listening during their birthing class and Tim should probably give him more credit in the future. 

"Agh," Tim hisses. The opponent at his feet grips his ankle and he glares down at him before lifting the other foot, stomping hard on his chest and pairing it with a kick to the side of his head for good measure. They aren't very well trained for League members. Maybe what Ra's said did have some truth to it. 

The groaning man is saved as Tim looks up, seeing Dick attempting to land the small aircraft. The small plane, they call it, because they have enough planes that they need distinction and that still amazes Tim sometimes and he'd even grown up wealthy. It's also one with only two seatbelts. That's not going to be fun. "Wrap it up," He tells Jason. "Our ride is here." And he's never been happier that Dick flies like a bat out of hell. 

Jason settles his fight by promptly tossing the assassin off the roof. Tim doesn't even care. By the look Jason gives over the edge, they won't be getting up soon. 

"I miss all the fun," Dick sighs as he hops out of the plane. Clearly he's a little conflicted about securing assassins or helping Tim, but Tim gasps and sinks his nails so far into Dick's Nightwing suit that he's pretty sure he rips into skin as well. "Ow!" He yelps. "Okay. Okay. We'll go." But he looks skeptically at the plane and then at Jason. 

"I'm not leaving him behind," Tim snaps. "I'll just...get on his lap. We've done that before." Nightwing waggles his eyebrows and Tim contemplates asking Jason to throw him off the roof and fly the plane himself. His thought process but be evident on his face because Nightwing winces. 

“Right. Labor. In we go,” He tells them. He has to arrange both Jason and Tim to his satisfaction and it's a tight squeeze with how big Jason is and how round Tim is, but they manage. 

The flight is mercifully short. At least, under normal circumstances it would be. Dick chats to him about how great it's going to be to have a baby around and wow she really knows how to make an entrance, doesn't she? Tim laughs and agrees, but they're all tense and strained. The contractions are getting a bit more unsteady, but Tim can feel her still writhing around. They can see the chaos of police pursuits and crashed cars below him. There are a few fires, but nothing that seems out of control. They've gotten off easy, thus far.

"If you need me," Jason tells Nightwing as they finally make it to the house. Tim's felt every tensing of Jason's muscles, between the contractions and Jason witnessing chaos below that needs his attention.

"We'll definitely call," Dick replies. "Pinky swear. B has some kind of plan, though, so I'm hopeful we're wrapping this one up by dawn." He drops a kiss on Tim's forehead. "Good luck, baby bird."

Alfred needs to be running the comms so Tim makes a point of getting situated as quickly as possible. Alfred has everything set up in a guest room in the wing opposite the one where the family sleeps. It smells of disinfectant and the plastic sheets on the bed when Tim sits down let him know this normally is a medical recovery room for them. 

"The tools in the closet have all been prepared and sterilized," Alfred informs them. "I've removed anything I felt too suspicious but contact me and I will retrieve whatever is needed."

"Sorry for all the trouble," Tim says and waves at the door. "Go. I know you have things to do."

Alfred frowns at him. "Master Bruce was the first Wayne not born within the walls of this house," He informs Tim primly, as though infant Bruce had caused a great stir by being born at a hospital. "This is absolutely no trouble. If you need my assistance you know you have only to ask, dear boy." The doorbell rings a moment after. "I believe I shall start by showing the doctor around."

It leaves Tim and Jason alone. At first, Jason paces the room. He rubs his shoulder against the walls and all but rolls on the window. Establishing a scent barrier, Tim knows, but he'd always thought that was an alpha thing until he met Jason. "We're alright," He murmurs to Jason. All of them. Himself, Jason, and the baby. "Is this a bad time to bring up names?"

That gets Jason's attention. He moves over carefully, resting a gentle hand on Tim's back to try to rub it. Tim appreciates the effort, especially since he knows Jason's fight or flight instincts are kicking in and he really wants to run. Nothing personal, but Tim gets it. Jason doesn't really want to see another omega give birth. He doesn't want to experience the pain Tim is in or even get to view it. Depending on how painful it gets, Tim's honestly not sure he wants Jason there either. "You finally make some choices?"

Tim stretches, grimacing a little as he feels his hip pop. Hopefully it means his hips are still widening. "Something red," He says. "I wanted something red for us. Red Robin. Red Hood." It sounds a little stupid. He sounds a little delirious so he mouths at Jason's jaw like he is an alpha and Tim his omega partner begging his indulgence just a moment longer. 

"Thought we needed to keep the vigilante life and the parental life separate," Jason answers, combing fingers through Tim's sweat-damp hair and getting a soft purr in response. 

"We do. Nothing obvious. But it's a part of us. It's...who we are. She can't be part of it but I want her to have something of it." Tim makes a frustrated noise that turns into a groan. He can't explain very well. Jason pets him through the contraction and encourages him to breathe. "Fuck, it's like someone is stabbing me then putting the wound in a vice," Tim tells him. But he wants to finish this. "Something red," He repeats. "Garnet. Rose. Ruby. Dahlia. Orchid."

"Tomato, blood, cardinal, apple," Jason lists. Tim glares at him. 

"If you think it's a stupid idea," Tim begins, then doesn't really know how to continue. He wants to cry, suddenly, not just from the pain but from everything. How the world is falling apart outside and their plans have been shot to hell. How scared he is about giving birth and even more scared about what happens when she's finally here. He pulls away from Jason, turning his face so he can regain control of his emotions. 

Alfred raps on the door sharply before entering. Dr. Grace comes in behind him, a nurse Tim vaguely recognizes lingering in the hallway for a moment. "St. Thomas's would be the closest, I realize," Alfred is telling the doctor. "But Mercy General may be easier to access. I should think we will have everything you need, however." He looks between the two of them. Tim is trying to make himself as small as possible on the bed and Jason looks like his hand has just been smashed in the cookie jar. 

Dr. Grace doesn't seem to sense the tension. "Did your water break yet?" He asks as he approaches and starts to guide Tim's legs down toward the foot of the bed, coaxing him to uncurl. "Give me the rundown, Tim." 

Tim launches into doing just that, appreciating that he's been given a task and knowing that the doctor had read him like a book in that moment as to what he needed. His waters haven't broken. His contractions were steady and he thought he was in active labor but now the contractions feel weaker. Jason backs up to the wall, leaving space, and Alfred gently touches his arm to guide him out of the room, with a cheerful promise to return him shortly. 

Tim doesn't cry and that's all the credit he can really give himself. He yelps when the doctor checks how far dilated he is and he almost slaps the nurse's hand when she reaches around him to put a monitor around his belly. It reminds Dr. Grace to make introductions, that her name is Sophie and she's his surgical nurse, when necessary. All Tim sees is a strange beta in his space, but it's not like they can swap her out for anyone. "I know you want to move," He says when the monitor is firmly buckled around his seizing middle. "Let the monitor do its job for half an hour so we know where we are with your contractions and then you can get back up." 

Tim is sufficiently miserable for those thirty minutes. The room smells foreign to him and unsafe. He wants to be alone and he certainly doesn't want to be flat on his back with his legs spread. He misses Jason. He hates Jason. He couldn't have taken one thing, as meaningful as a name, seriously?

"Six centimeters," Dr. Grace reassures him. "Mostly effaced. I think we'll have the baby within four hours." He frowns over toward Sophie, who is by the window checking something on her cell phone. “We have a few alerts out for when the roads open. We'll try to get to a hospital.” Tim wants to scream. Four hours feels like too much to stand.

~*~*~

"I don't even know why I said what I said," Jason admits, raking his hands over his face. He'd realized only after the fact that his Red Hood gear was still on when the doctor arrived. At least the helmet was off and the rest might be mistaken for biker leathers. The doctor hadn't said anything, at least. 

Alfred had guided him down to the Cave for some tea and another check on the monitors. Jason is relieved to see the situation is slowly coming into hand. Scarecrow has been caught. Police are rounding up his victims and escorting them to the hospital. The gang of assassins that seems to have taken up with him are being hunted down and it seems Robin takes a particular glee in subduing them. 

"You were deflecting," Alfred says easily. "Master Jason, if you will forgive the bluntness, you have done that since you were a young boy. You and Master Bruce are both old souls. He withdraws when he feels uncomfortable; you use humor. Humor that I should note fell very flat on your partner." 

"Probably not a good idea to joke when someone's in that much pain," Jason agrees. 

Alfred shakes his head. "Not a good idea to joke when your _partner_ is _afraid_ ," He corrects. Jason almost protests that Tim isn't afraid of anything but Alfred continues. "He puts on a brave front but of course he must be terrified. He is someone who had his wardrobe for school chosen a month in advance and could map out a thousand hiding places from which to get photographs. Someone who plans to every detail and suddenly he can not. The labor is early. The roads were blocked. He does not know if he is facing major surgery to see his child safely here and he does not know how long she will stay with him afterward."

That makes Jason growl. He's not going to let anyone take the baby from Tim. Alfred shakes his head. "I forgot," He comments. "You deflect with violence as well."

Jason stares into his tea.

"I would suggest," Alfred tells him, attention turning back to the monitors. "That you return. That you apologize. Master Timothy will need someone familiar there for him and I have every faith that you are going to be that girl's father." 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Labor doesn't go as planned when Tim experiences complications. The rest of the family waits anxiously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we're here. Baby time! Baby naming time, too! But don't worry (or yell in anger) because this isn't the end. We don't have too much longer to go but there is a little side plot to wrap up. Next update will be the side story about Tim's past, so look for an update to the series but not to this particular story! It's currently pretty explicit and focuses more on how Tim feels about Jason (whereas Tim didn't factor into Jason's story much at all). Thanks for hanging on this long and I hope it's worth it! 
> 
> This chapter is very heavy on the medical stuff. Blood, somewhat detailed childbirth (from Jason's POV) and all the grossness and emotions that come with it.

It's the pep talk he needs. Jason changes into something more comfortable before he goes back upstairs. The door is open and Tim is lying on his side in the bed. The doctor has a gloved hand on his hip and the other beneath the blanket covering Tim's lower half. The nurse is holding a tablet, looking concerned. There's a monitor Jason hasn't seen before nearby, making a high-pitched noise. "You can't feel that?" Dr. Grace questions, hand moving from his hip to the front of his stomach where, Jason sees now, there is a monitor strapped to him.

"I feel _something_ ," Tim answers, tone stressed. His eyes dart to Jason. There's something wrong, Jason knows. He moves beside the bed, instantly reaching for Tim's hand and Tim holds on like it's a lifeline. Dr. Grace moves his hand again, somewhere Jason's not comfortable thinking about, and Tim grimaces. "I can feel that, definitely." 

The doctor removes both hands. Jason meets Tim's eyes, ignoring the snap of gloves as they are removed and the fact that the doctor is looking at the tablet over the nurse's shoulder. "Your contractions are strong," Dr. Grace says. The tone might sound pleased but Jason's been reading people a long time. "They're steady. Baby's heartbeat is good and she recovers quickly from the contractions."

"But?" Jason prompts. 

Dr. Grace winces. The expression doesn't seem at home on his chubby face and his curly hair is messed up from the way he keeps tugging on it. "The bones are still spreading," He admits. "Her head is down and engaging, but there needs to be space for her to turn. Right now it's a race to see if she tries to come down before the bones are ready. Your butler tells me we can perform a surgical intervention here but I'd really rather avoid that." 

"We all would," Tim replies. Jason helps him sit up, helps him unstrap the band around his stomach. "What is the next step?” It's so methodical. So calm that Jason is impressed. 

“There was a major wreck on the highway connecting this place to Saint Thomas's, so that option is out. No way going into Gotham itself will get us to a hospital in time. Mercy General agreed to have an operating theater open but they're overwhelmed with patients.” The doctor sighs. It's a troubling sign, whatever spin he is trying to put on the information. “We don't want you delivering on the road somewhere.”

“Why don't you go look at the surgical facilities?” Tim suggests. “I don't think we'll be getting to the hospital tonight.” Dr. Grace and Sophie drift out of the room. Tim removes the monitor and uses Jason to pull himself upright, out of bed, wiggling bare toes on the rug. He frowns down at his legs, rubbing a hand along his left thigh. 

"Could have gone better?" Jason prompts, pressing his face against the top of Tim's head and inhaling his scent. Stressed as it is, it's still Tim. He can tell Tim is scared, however little he shows it in front of the doctor.

"Yeah," Tim admits. "Bones need to spread. Baby is considered nearly pre-term. Having some strange non-feelings in my left side but they ruled out a heart attack or anything." He shuts his eyes. "I just want to be home. With you and her."

It's an intimate admission. Jason chokes up for a moment, able to do nothing but run his fingers down Tim's spine in silent confirmation that he wants that too. "I like Ruby," He says at last, quietly, when he's sure Tim's come down from a contraction. Tim's eyes roll up to him, dark blue and as gorgeous as ever. "Ruby," He repeats. "For her name. Sounds kind of old-fashioned but still posh enough to be your kid." He smiles crookedly. "And it's red." 

Tim laughs, or at least Jason thinks it's a laugh. "Ruby," He repeats. "I can live with Ruby. I can especially live with Ruby out of me within the next hour and incredibly easily, but I don't think she's going to cooperate.” He pauses. “...plus that's kind of our song now.” 

“What's our song?” Jason questions, thinking maybe the pain has gotten to him. 

“Ruby Lee,” Tim says before he has to stop and simply breathe through a contraction. “The song on the way to the first appointment. The song you hum. The song your mom taught you.” And Tim seems so shy that Jason has to remember they've known one another for years at this point. Tim isn't even a teenager anymore.

Jason wonders if that ear worm burrowed into his subconscious. He doesn't really care, because suddenly Ruby seems perfect. 

“Ruby Conner,” Tim adds in, before Jason can wrap his head fully around it. “Ruby Conner Drake?” He seems to be testing it out for himself. 

“Conner is a boy's name,” Jason replies. Conner is an alien's name, too. But he knows it's been hard on Tim to lose Conner. He doesn't think he's ever had a best friend like that and still he can kind of relate. “You okay with that?”

Tim snorts. He at least catches on that Jason is joking. “I think I can name her what I want. I'm sure there will be more scandal than her having a boy's name as a middle name.”

They walk around the room for the next several minutes. Tim eases into stretches that most people can't do when they aren't pregnant, let alone in labor. Jason massages the bone when he's sure he's allowed to do that and for once it's potentially the least sexy thing possible. Probably because he can feel Tim's body shake with pain whenever his belly tenses. They don't have an anesthesiologist and that rules an epidural out, and Tim doesn't want to be foggy for the birth. Or for the fact assassins might drop from their ceiling at any moment. For all he wants to believe Ra's, it's always safer not to trust him.

The doctor checks in every so often. They're all making a last ditch attempt to get the bones to spread enough for a natural delivery. Alfred has set up doctor and nurse with coffee and television in the sitting room down the hall so that there is some privacy, but the doctor is definitely in the room with them more than he's not, reassuring Tim that the problem is very common in male omegas and that none of this means he's failing. Sophie checks his vitals and the baby's heartbeat and he's relieved each time he hears it. Ruby is doing well, even if Tim is starting to struggle. 

Tim's water finally breaks and it's on Jason's sock-covered feet. A little trickle that turns into a gush of warmth and Jason looks incredulously at Tim. "I thought we agreed we were saving that for Bruce," He says simply and Tim howls with laughter loudly enough that doctor, nurse, and butler come running. Dr. Grace takes care of Tim. Alfred helps Jason clean up. Sophie mops the floor and reassures them that this happens all the time. 

Alfred informs them that the other members of their family are wrapping up their engagement and that it has gone quite well. Tim can't begin to remember what type of engagement they were supposed to have that wasn't fighting ninjas and a guy in a scarecrow mask so he just nods. With it comes Dr. Grace's announcement that Tim is well into transitional labor and that the bones simply haven't spread widely enough. 

“We'll set up for a c-section,” Dr. Grace tells him firmly. “It's not ideal but I can have the baby out in two minutes, if there's a need. You'll only need to be anesthetized for about forty-five minutes. An hour, at most.”

Tim was kind of hoping no one else would be home. That they would arrive back to the manor to a sleeping baby and a cleaned up Tim. Of course he wouldn't be so lucky. Nothing tonight had been lucky. He can just nod as the doctor and nurse go into the room prepared to gut him like a fish. 

"I want you to break the bone," He tells Jason, completely calm.

"No way," Jason says instantly. "I don't have any idea what I'm doing and that would definitely hurt like fuck. Isn't her head in the way?"

Tim shakes his head. "If you break it up then her head isn't anywhere near it. She'll slide down." He crouches, hissing out a breath. "We can't do an epidural, Jason. I'll have to be completely out to have a c-section here." His hands reach out, gripping Jason's wrists hard enough to bruise. "I don't want that. I can't...there's no control of that.”

It was rare to see Tim having such a breakdown. He was exhausted, Jason knew. They were all trained to withstand pain and torture but it had been hours. Tim had been in pain for hours, and now things were spiraling out of his control. But the thought of breaking Tim anywhere, especially somewhere so intimate, made his stomach turn. “It won't be so bad, baby bird. Forty-five minutes. You've been under longer. And I'll be right there,” Jason reassures him. 

Tim shakes his head in refusal. “You have to-oh..." Tim's eyes get wide. Enough that Jason's about to make a joke except there's an expression of raw agony suddenly on Tim's face and he jerks his hand down between his legs and Jason is reminded he's only wearing a t-shirt and...

"Is that the _head?_ " Jason demands in a blind panic. Tim doesn't say anything, but he does completely fall over as his leg gives way under him. It's not a far fall, but it's enough to have Jason hyperventilating as he tries to keep Tim in a crouch and are you supposed to get someone upright when there's a baby coming out of them? "We need some help in here!" He yells. He gets Tim to his back and grabs a pillow. 

"My leg," Tim says, which isn't what Jason expects to be his primary concern in this situation. His leg looks completely fine. "I can't feel my toes," Tim repeats, which has Sophie gripping the leg in question and trying to rub feeling back into his foot. 

Dr. Grace barely has time to get gloves on before he's kneeling by Tim and Alfred hovers uncertainly but eventually comes in to grab for another pillow and pull a light over to the middle of the floor where Tim has dropped. "Don't push," Dr. Grace says quickly and Tim yelps again, nails digging bloody furrows into Jason's arm which doesn't help his nerves any. "Her head has definitely dropped,” The doctor says and Jason detects the notes of barely concealed panic. “It's out of the pelvic cradle, we're going to have to push her back in or get her out this way. What about your leg?"

"It hurts!" Tim yells. The panic is escalating and Jason has the stupid, suicidal instinct to pull Tim away. To cradle him close and hide from the world as though that's actually an option. "It's burning," He replies. "I can't...it's like my foot is asleep." He pauses, arching up, eyes clenched shut "Oh God should I be feeling that?" 

"Her head is putting a lot of pressure on your pelvic floor. If we can get her shoulders past the bone then we're set." The doctor sighs, clearly rallying himself. "If we can't then we're going to try to get her high enough to do surgery. This is going to hurt." 

"Alfred," Tim says simply. Alfred nods and makes a quick exit, shutting the door behind him. Alfred can prepare a surgical room. Alfred can round up some family members to be newly appeared staff members. Alfred also can keep those hovering alphas from busting into the room if they hear him yell or scent his fear or anything else.

"We're going to pull your knees up to hyper extend the tendons keeping your pelvis closed ," Dr. Grace advises. "You'll feel a lot of pressure and, no lying to you, quite a bit of pain. Then hopefully her shoulder pops free and you can finish pushing her out." 

"What if it doesn't pop free?" Jason asks, trying to position Tim without hurting him. He wonders if the fact Robins are flexible is going to help or hinder this. Certainly Tim can get his knees above his shoulders without any real strain under normal circumstances. 

"It'll pop free," Dr. Grace says at the same time Tim replies "He breaks her clavicle." 

"We have more to try before we resort to that," The doctor assures them both. "Ready?"

Jason will never be ready for this. He'll shudder every time he hears the word because suddenly, Tim tenses, and the whine he gives is a barely contained scream. Jason pushes his right leg up, copying what Sophie is doing on the left. They're keeping Tim's hips down, only rotating the joint. An effective torture method, it seems, that Jason will have to remember. 

"Pressure," Dr. Grace orders and Sophie leans over, flattening Tim's leg to his shoulder and pressing her hand against his lower stomach. She drags the heel of it downward and Tim does scream this time, loud and raw and setting every nerve Jason has on edge. 

When Tim stops screaming, the silence is deafening. What if it didn't work? Tim's eyes are still open and he's desperately looking down. His body is straining and Jason realizes he's pushing only after Dr. Grace announces "Got her. She's free. Just one more..." 

There's a rush of fluid and a gush of bright red blood, but Jason sees her through that. She seems so tiny and she sputters and starts to cry nearly instantly. He's reaching without realizing it, helping the doctor pull her up to Tim's chest because Tim will definitely want to see this. To see her. 

Sophie drops a surgical towel against Jason's hand, showing him how to rub the newborn clean, keeping her against Tim's chest. Jason's touched he's told to help, touched to be a part of it until he realizes the doctor is still between Tim's legs and Sophie is rushing to assist. He doesn't know if it's normal. 

But Tim looks happy. Blissed out, even, nuzzling his face to her as much as he can. His fingers explore her hands, trailing down her small, writhing body, and Jason can't help but lean forward and nuzzle her as well, and then Tim. He sees them snip the umbilical cord.

"Let's get Tim onto the bed," The doctor suggests. "Sophie can do a quick check on the baby." Tim is reluctant to give her up, but they manage to transfer the baby to Sophie and Jason helps the doctor lift Tim onto the bed. He could do it himself, if not for the awkward position they're all in. "You're bleeding a little too much," Dr. Grace tells Tim while they stack pillows behind him. "It's nothing major yet. We're going to start an IV and try to get the placenta delivered, alright?"

It's the doctor who starts an IV line and Tim barely seems to notice, only having eyes for his daughter in the make-shift nursery across the room. Sophie deposits the baby back onto Tim's chest. "Six on the Apgar," She informs him. "We'll check again in a few minutes. That's entirely normal for a newborn who stalled like she did." 

Tim seems focused on the baby instead of the flurry of activity around him. Jason can't blame him, even if she's not much to look at just yet. He doesn't know exactly what the Apgar measures, but he knows it goes to ten and he doubts saying that the baby stalled is a good sign. "Give Jason the baby," Dr. Grace suggests. "Things are about to get uncomfortable for you again." 

Reluctantly, he moves his hands to let Jason scoop her up. He hasn't said a word, has barely made a sound, like the baby has stolen his voice away. Jason balks, unsure of what to do, but Alfred is there in nearly an instant. He'd come back no doubt expecting to help Tim to the surgical suite and now here they are with a baby. He encourages him to sit in a chair and he firmly tucks the newborn into his arms a moment later. "Hold her against your chest. Securely. Poor dear is probably cold," Alfred tells him.  
He observes the chaos of the room with barely the bat of an eyelash. "Will Timothy be requiring blood or should I ring for an ambulance?"

It's Sophie who answers with a negative shake of her head. "We've got the bleed under control for now but perhaps you'd like to go announce the news while we wrap it up?” Her gaze shifts to Jason. “Rub her back and bounce her a little. You need to get her more adjusted to being out before we re-test her.”

Alfred's pleased to agree, but Jason's sorry to see him go. Jason feels useless, sitting there, but he's lost in the baby's scent and in her tiny fingers as they curl out of the blanket. He rubs her back through the towel, shifting his arms so he can rock her as instructed. “What are you testing her for?” If he knows that he can try to fix it, right?

“Respiration, pulse, color, reflexes. Those kinds of things. She's just a little stunned. Poor thing got caught like a fish in a net,” Sophie replies as she rubs Tim's stomach again. “Your reflexes, meanwhile, are just fine,” She adds when he makes an attempt to swat at her again. Jason thinks it must really hurt for Tim to actually lift a hand to try to stop the touch.

“Sorry,” Tim breathes. “But she's okay?”

“She's squirming,” Jason assures him. He hopes that's a good sign. 

Dr. Grace makes a noise of triumph as the placenta is delivered and he's almost beaming at them both, like Tim's delivered another child instead of a terrifying looking internal organ. “Gentlemen,” He says. “I think we've done it.”

Sophie retrieves the baby and Jason looks longingly after her. It's better than looking at the doctor, who is definitely examining the placenta to make sure it's whole, or at Tim who is white-faced with pain and blood loss. “She's not scenting as anything yet so no guesses if you have an alpha or omega. Right at six pounds,” She announces as she weighs her. “And seventeen and a half inches long. Not bad for her age.” 

“Another week of growth and she wouldn't have fit,” Dr. Grace comments. “You two must have a guardian angel.” 

Tim still feels a little dazed. His fingers find Jason's. “Must have,” He agrees, instantly shutting down that part of his mind that thinks of the what ifs. What if he had gone into labor a week later? What if everything had gone wrong?

He's reminded of what did go wrong with another surge of pins and needles pain to his leg. Dr. Grace has him roll to his side and flex to prevent any compression of the spinal cord as he begins running his tests, urging Tim to let him know if he feels anything too out of the ordinary. 

“Nine on the scale this time,” Sophie calls to them. “She's bounced back. Absolutely nothing to worry about.” 

Jason's fingers squeeze Tim's and they watch their daughter. 

~*~*~

It falls to Jason to update the family. It's not a thought he enjoys and, in fact, he starts to protest it as he helps Tim shift into a better position for the doctor to prod at him. 

"Fine," Tim hisses out. "I'll walk  out there and tell them how things went." Dark blue eyes roll Jason's direction and Jason almost grimaces at the expression in them. Tim is not happy. Jason wouldn't be happy either if he was going on no sleep and another human had just emerged from his body with even more complications than that usually brought. "Oh wait. I can't walk."

"We're working on that!" Dr. Grace says cheerfully as he runs one of those sharp pinwheel things over Tim's leg, getting only a slight twitch in response. Jason's not sure if he's purposeful or just oblivious, but it works. Jason backs down from the strange feeling that this should be Tim's duty. It's not even that he dreads facing Bruce and Dick and Damian. There's just something in him that wants to hover over Tim and Ruby both. Tim's comfort notwithstanding, he's almost glad this hadn't been done in a hospital. He would probably be willing to tear out the throat of any stranger who came too close. 

He squeezes Tim's hand and gets a brief response to it before he slips out of the room, steadying himself with a deep breath in the hallway. Alfred had at least managed to wrangle the family from a vigil directly outside the door to one in a nearby sitting room. Providing them privacy and keeping out of the way and Jason is entirely grateful for that. He makes his way to the sitting room, wondering at how these halls had felt so dark and enormous when he was a kid. Now it feels like only a few steps from one side to the other. 

Eyes are instantly on him when he enters. Bruce has been pacing the floor with his hands clasped behind his back like he's the expectant father (a thought which had been spread across tabloids enough times to make Jason uncomfortable and Tim furious) and Damian is mirroring him, pacing in his own way without the size of his father's shoulders to back up the angry sweep as he turns. Alfred is knitting, keeping a critical eye on the room as a blanket forms in his hands and it's one that Jason knows Tim had been working on in hopes of getting it done as a gift. Not likely that will happen now. Dick is on the floor by Alfred's feet, arms covered in yarn and extended above him like he's a human spool. Jason's lips twitch at that; he doubts Alfred actually needs him to keep the yarn held that way but there's definite credit for keeping Dick still except for the ineffective kicking of his feet. 

"Is Tim alright?" Dick asks instantly. "There was a lot of blood."

Jason blinks at him. "What, do you have a spy cam in there?" He's also been trying to forget exactly how much blood there was.

Dick is trying to carefully get his hands free of the yarn around them. "Smelled it. You kind of get a nose for that what with working like we do."

"Disgusting, Grayson," Damian chides before Jason can pretty much say exactly the same thing. He pauses, looking between Bruce and Jason, almost hesitant. Bruce looks pretty shell-shocked still. "But Drake and the child are adequately cared for?"

"Wouldn't be out here if they weren't," Jason shoots back defensively before he sighs again. It has been a long night for Tim. For him, too. For all of them who haven't been to sleep and it basically being morning. "Tim's fine. He did lose a lot of blood but they don't think he needs a transfusion or anything." Another pause and he swallows the surge of emotion that suddenly seems to be bursting from his chest. He wants to scream or cry or yell or run until he passes out. "There's some nerve damage and Tim can't walk well but-"

"Nerve damage?" This time it's Bruce who cuts him off, looking like he wants to leap over the sofa to get to Jason faster. "What kind? Pudendal? Femoral? What level is it? What-"

"Master Bruce." Alfred is calm, as always. He's sipping his tea, needles laid aside for the moment. "You can not interrogate the nerves as to the damage even if you were in the room and Master Jason no doubt would appreciate not being interrogated."

Jason wants to argue that, too. He wants to pick a fight with Bruce to insist he's fine but actually he's so exhausted that he can't even think of how to begin short of punching Bruce in the face. That's not how he wants to remember the night of his daughter's birth. "Don't know," He responds with a shrug. "They're checking that out now. Doctor says it's not serious, though. It should go away completely." Tim had wanted reassurance of that.

"Can we see them?" Dick questions. Jason's surprised he's asking, also kind of flattered that it's him they all look toward. 

 

At least Tim had prepared him. "Doctor thinks it'll be a couple of hours of clean up and general gross things," Jason replies, trying to brush it off with a grin that feels strange on his nearly numb face. "So Timbers suggests everyone get some sleep and he'll have you in as soon as he can sit up." Jason doesn't blame him for that either. He doesn't want the family parading in while he's gushing blood or while he's pants-less. 

Dick, freed from the yarn at last, rises to throw his arms around Jason. Jasin flails, grunting in protest as Dick reaches to ruffle his hair and starts nosing his face. Little licks again, baby kisses, and Jason gives him a hard shove. Dick stumbles back a few steps but he's still grinning as he snatches Damian up and proceeds to do the same to him, despite Damian's indignant squawks of outrage. Poor kid doesn't stand a chance and he has Jason's sympathy as Dick lifts him up and dances around the room with him. 

He's so focused on that display that when Bruce rests a hand on his shoulder, Jason startles a little. He turns to face his almost adopted father, wary, but not spoiling for an argument. He's nearly Bruce's height now; they stand eye to eye even if they'll never see that way. "I'm so pleased for you and Tim," Bruce tells him and Jason knows that for all it seems rehearsed, it's no less sincere. Even the little voice in the back of his mind that insists it was only Bruce's worry for Tim, not Jason, that leads him to say it is very quiet in the face of the affection. 

"Well," Jason says. "I'm pleased too." He leans forward, impulsively, headbutting Bruce lightly before nuzzling his jaw. It's not quite the submissive omega gesture, it's more of something between alphas, but the touch feels electric to Jason. Startling, after so long spent trying not to touch Bruce even accidentally. Bruce looks just as startled, but the hand on his shoulder draws him into a brief squeeze. 

"Now," Alfred notes primly. "If I might be bold enough to suggest I help you get the sheets changed? Master Bruce can see the physician safely off when he is ready and the others," with a pointed look at Dick and Damian "Might nap until Master Timothy is feeling rested enough for visitors." 

They divide to their tasks. Jason is surprised to find himself standing next to the linen closet with Alfred, once again like he's thirteen years old as his arms are stacked with fresh sheets and blankets. They return to find Tim dozing in a chair, hanging half off it with Ruby clutched against his chest. Jason has to grin, rousing Tim with a kiss to the side of his face as Alfred sets to work changing the bedding. Sophie is there, at least, to help him with that. "Everything good?" He questions softly. 

"He's only exhausted," Dr. Grace replies when Tim's sleepy murmurs fail to become intelligible. "Didn't want to let go of the baby until you got back, either. I'm not going to ask about the trust issues all of you seem to have." 

"Probably for the best," Jason agrees. He trails a finger over the side of Ruby's face, surprised when she squints at him and settles back down. Nearly exactly what Tim had done. "Alfie? Can you hold her while I get Tim into bed?" Jason pretends not to notice the tender look that comes over the old butler's face as he lifts Ruby gently from Tim's arms. 

Jason scoops Tim up to get him into bed, mindful of his left leg that feels almost dead in his touch. Tim sighs blissfully at the smell of clean sheets, already mostly asleep as Jason tucks him in for some well-deserved rest. He looks up to see Alfred swaying back and forth with Ruby, looking so enthralled with her that Jason's sure his heart is going to burst out of his chest. Alfred pauses, glancing back at him and smiling. 

Jason smiles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always find it amazingly difficult to name OCs, especially children when it needs to be something that makes sense without being too hokey at the same time and hopefully I managed it. I narrowed down the concept then honestly chose randomly. Scarlett was originally in the running, too! I accidentally wrote this song into the end of Chapter 5 without thinking about it and, well, Ruby suddenly seemed perfect. 
> 
> Tune in next story to find out more about Tim's feelings since this chapter wasn't his POV.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family meets the baby. A paternity test is performed and leads to more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is beginning the final arc of the story! Oh no! There's maaaaybe five chapters after this and I'm starting to feel a little sad for it. Thanks for sticking with me this long and I've thoroughly enjoyed all the comments and reviews. Let's start wrapping this up.

She's perfect. Tim knows he's not unbiased in the least; she is his baby after all. Omegas have certain brain chemistry that kicks in to make them think their offspring is the most adorable. He knows she's wrinkled and pink and way too small to have caused as many problems as she did. She certainly did not feel small coming out of him. She has a smattering of dark hair that curls tightly to her head no matter how many times Alfred wipes her down and her eyes are that hazy, unfocused blue he knows she'll lose as soon as her eyes have enough light for the melanin in them to respond. The doctor had informed them that they were pale enough that she probably got barely any melanin in the womb, Jason had hypothesized it was from Tim's lack of sunlight, and Tim had kicked him with his good leg. Not a bad way to start their family. 

Tim is still in bed, though he's under orders to ambulate at least once an hour every hour, which turns out to be very difficult with a leg that is completely numb at some points. They've diagnosed it as femoral nerve damage, but he should regain use of the leg after a month or so. Spinal compression during labor is tricky. It could have been worse if he hadn't been moving around during contractions. He has a line in his vein feeding him antibiotics and mild painkillers. The bleeding had eased with the delivery of the placenta and trickled to normal an hour later after a dose of pitocin and a few uterine massages that Tim had complained felt more like punching and less like massaging. 

The doctor and nurse had been sent on their way with what was no doubt a very generous donation courtesy of Bruce Wayne. Tim swears he'll call a pediatrician and get to a hospital if there's any trouble. The roads are clear now, at least. Somehow in all of his preparations he'd forgotten to actually narrow down his list to one particular doctor for his daughter. 

Jason has been with him all night. Jason keeps lifting the baby, rubbing his cheek over her to scent her. Also an alpha behavior, Tim knows. In times past it was used to mask the scent of a weak newborn with the smell of an alpha so no one else would prey on the baby. Currently it just makes her smell more like Jason and Tim can't complain about that. 

"Ruby," Jason tests out on her as she wiggles against Tim's chest. 

"It's better than the names I was calling her in my head when she decided to drop that fast and get stuck," Tim reasons. He looks down to her. "Not that it was your fault, darling. I don't think you made the conscious decision to hurt me in such a way." 

Jason snorts. "Lay on the guilt, why don't you?" He's tired and he needs a shower. Tim looks like he's only half alive. Ruby is clean and diapered and swaddled courtesy of Alfred who is still the only person they've allowed in the room, despite the protests outside. And the repeated showers Jason's made certain everyone takes in case there might be any lingering traces of fear toxin. Embarrassing enough, Tim says, that Alfred saw him naked and spread and screaming. He wants to make sure everything is a little more dignified by the time the rest of the family come in. Jason is still keyed up from the panic of the birth, so he'd keep them out forever if he could. "Still Ruby Conner Drake?"

Tim hums, contemplating. "I don't want to erase you from her name." 

"It's kind of difficult explaining why Todd is in there," Jason replies and shrugs. "Even if she sounds kind of like a high class dragon escort. And at least you don't like Ruby Wayne." 

"Speaking of," Tim adds, ignoring the logistics of a dragon escort,"We should let them see her so they'll stop hovering and maybe go to bed.”

Jason agrees, albeit reluctantly. He cracks open the door which is all the invitation anyone needs. Dick is first, of course, barely restraining himself from bouncing into the room. He dissolves into soft sounds at the sight of her, crawling basically in bed with Tim to get a better look at the new baby. "She looks like you." 

Tim makes a face. "She looks kind of like a potato right now so I don't think that's the compliment you intended it to be." 

"No, really! The shape of her nose is you. And she's going to have huge eyes like you do. And look at those eyelashes!" Dick's finger comes dangerously close to touching her, but at least he has the sense not to poke a baby in the face. "She's really great," He says at last and ruffles Tim's hair instead. "Good job." 

"I'm told it was a harrowing experience," Bruce comments from the door. He eases inside, careful, avoiding Jason's path somewhat. Alphas don't usually want to intrude on any breeding omega they didn't put that way in the first place. Dick appears to be the vibrant, nearly rabid exception to the rule. "The doctor informed me that well stocked though I may be in my paranoia, the rules of life and death extend even to the rich and famous and you should have been in a hospital and under the knife. That we're not above the rules." He looks a little amused, but tired as well. Tim knows he hasn't been to bed since he went out on patrol. 

Dr. Grace couldn't have known that their nightly activities are against the law and they've cheated death more times than Tim can count at this point. 

"I regretted my choice about the moment she decided to drop into my pelvis," Tim informs him grimly. "But by then it was too late anyway. I can't say there would have been a better outcome in the hospital under the circumstances last night." He's been thinking a lot about that too, and about the what ifs. But it's Jason who reminds him that Tim and Ruby are both healthy and safe. "Do you want to hold her?"

It seems like a sacrifice to let someone have her, and it kind of is, but Ruby is actually getting heavy to hold against his chest constantly. She's underweight for a newborn and Tim might contemplate later how much blood he's really lost that she feels like such a physical burden. Dick whines pitifully and Tim elbows him. "Wait your turn." 

Watching Bruce with the baby is weird. Jason's gaze is sharp and he seems ready to leap in, as though he hadn't been terrified of holding her at first. Bruce adjusts easily and she looks even smaller in his massive hands. "I like holding them a bit more when they're older," He admits when she wiggles against him. Fortunately for him, Dick is waiting and he hands the baby off to Dick in short order. 

"I don't," Dick replies. "They're great when you wrap them up like a football and you have to get them young to do that." And indeed he is happily cuddling Ruby, who Tim realizes is still nameless to them. She's slept through all the exchanges with barely a mewl. Tim isn't sure if she recognizes scents and voices or if she's feeling as worn out from her birth as he is.

"We're thinking of naming her Ruby," Tim says, like it isn't decided. He's not sure if he's making them think they have any input at all or if he simply is testing the name for himself. He still doesn't know why he doesn't want to commit. 

"An acceptable name," Damian says, behaving as though he hasn't been hiding in the hallway since the door opened. He walks over to Dick and Tim tenses, but all he does is request a turn holding Ruby. From Dick, Tim notes with annoyance, but Dick quickly reminds him that she's Tim's baby and it's Tim's choice. Just like with the name.

"Sit down before you hold her," He concedes. Damian bristles. 

"He made me sit down first too," Jason informs him, surprisingly the peacekeeper in the situation. "Sit until you get used to it. Have you even held a baby before?" Jason has, but not in recent memory. Damian's probably the same, if not worse. 

Ultimately Dick has to be forced to give Damian a turn, and he returns to cuddling Tim when deprived of the baby. Damian holds Ruby carefully, and there's an odd sort of look on his face that is almost affection. No doubt someone has been lecturing him on how badly the baby needs him to protect her. Tim is charmed, and a little impressed that Damian is so good with her.  And it can never hurt to have another set of eyes on her, and another set of hands willing to take care of her.

Jason doesn't bristle at Dick's closeness to Tim. He does hover near Damian like he's willing to snatch Ruby away from him at a moment's notice. 

"So," Dick says conversationally. "I heard Ra's Al Ghul offered you a ride when I didn't get there fast enough?"

~*~*~

They perform the paternity test themselves. Bruce insists that he do the swabbing of the inside of Ruby's cheek and that he runs the sample. Not that he thinks Tim would falsify it intentionally, but he knows how badly they both want Ruby to belong to Jason in blood as much as she does in spirit. Even then, Tim's not sure exactly how he would trick Bruce's paternity test. The truth is important to know, even if it might not be the public truth they all live.

Ruby had been two days old when the newspaper article "New Wayne Heiress Makes Dramatic Debut" came out. Sophie had been the one to talk to the press, clearly, but she had saved Tim's life so he could at least prevent a lawsuit against her in return. They were fortunate enough the story was more about the whirlwind drama of Ruby's birth during a city-wide crisis than about the odd goings on at Wayne Manor. Tim had groused that she wasn't a Wayne or an heiress before Jason kissed him and helpfully pointed out that between the two of them they weren't exactly penniless for her to inherit a fortune. 

It unfortunately also alerted Lucas Powers to her arrival in the world, when Tim had thought the silver lining of her coming early might be that it bought him a couple of weeks of peace. Instead he's had no fewer than six calls and messages from him, asking to set up a time both for him to see her and for the paternity test. Tim will have to get an official report from an official lab, but he wants to know without a doubt what the truth is. He feels a little odd having a foreign anything stuck into Ruby's mouth even if it doesn't hurt her. It makes him resent Lucas even more. 

He searches Ruby's face sometimes for some trace of Lucas. She's dark-haired like he is but that's no surprise. Her eyes are still pale, enough like Bruce's to be eerie considering they aren't genetically related. She's pretty, to him, but she's still a baby. Despite what Dick's said, her features don't look like much of anyone except herself.

It's only the fact that Tim is using a walker to get around that keeps him from roaming through the cave to soothe his anxiety. It's not the most stylish way to get around but it keeps him from collapsing and currently it's his only method of transportation short of being carried. This morning he managed his first successful shower without falling over and there's nothing like childbirth to make you appreciate the tiny things you can do for yourself, Tim knows now. 

"Inconclusive," Bruce tells him and Tim wants to scream. Screaming mentally seems to be his new coping mechanism since his stomach is too sore to rub and screaming out loud frightens the baby. "Let me run another sample. Blood, if you'll allow it." 

He doesn't want to allow it, but the need to know rules out the need to covet his newborn. The chances of Bruce's computer system having an inconclusive result are next to nothing and that's definitely troubling. He lets Bruce collect another cheek swab from the baby first, watching Bruce's expression for some indication he's hiding something. He sees nothing but a kind of vague perturbed look at his computer's failure. Next he holds her while Bruce collects blood from the heel of her foot; a process that had scared both Tim and Jason the first time it had been done. She whimpers and he's glad he didn't invite Jason along on this excursion; he hates hearing Ruby cry. More than Tim does, maybe. 

He's been the parent dealing with Ruby's needs the most, thanks to Tim's limited mobility. He gets up with her and prepares her bottles. Jason is the one who walks her around the apartment when she's awake or changes her diapers when they're messy and Tim can't quite stand at the changing table. Jason is definitely her parent, and definitely Tim's lover, and Tim doesn't need any more labels put on their relationship than that for the time being.

Still, he'd like to add biological father to his title.

Another twenty minutes pass and Ruby starts to get fussy. She's hungry, Tim can guess by the time. Her frantic little squirms also make him think she doesn't approve of the way she's been swaddled against the dampness of the cave. She's usually well behaved. She hardly ever screams. Her tantrums are gentle and easily dealt with unless something is severely wrong. He's been told that might change as she gets older, that newborns are often quiet enough to lull their parents into a false sense of security.

Bruce calls him over to look at the screen and that's never a good sign. Tim wheels the entire chair rather than risk standing up. “The top is Jason's genetic signature. The bottom is Ruby's,” Bruce explains. Ruby's information is overlaid on top of Jason's and the computer throws it back instantly as not a match. 

No match. Jason isn't Ruby's father. Tim can't believe it, staring at the computer and feeling his heart sink to his stomach. Ruby squeaks as he clutches her a little more tightly. “That means...” He can't stand to say it. He can't think of it. Jason is going to be crushed, however much he wants to pretend otherwise and Tim wonders if they can hide this result from him as well.

“Wait,” Bruce tells him. Another set of data appears on the computer. "The top is the genetic signature of Lucas Powers," He says, and Tim doesn't bother asking how he got that particular sample. "This is Ruby's paternal genetic signature." He pulls up another window, overlaying the two. 

"They don't match," Tim breathes. He feels elated, resisting the urge to squeeze Ruby against him again. Bruce isn't smiling. "What?" Tim asks. "If he's not the father..."

Then it catches up to him. He knows what it means, logically, but he can't understand it. It's not possible. If it's not Lucas, then it's Jason. There's no third option. “I don't understand.” 

"There are some genetic similarities in the markers," Bruce says. "But she's not Jason's. Not from these samples. You can have her tested at any lab and they'll rule out the chance of Lucas Powers being the father. But if anyone looks closely, they'll see some anomalies in her paternal genetic material that would preclude her from being the child of two omegas. If he has a smart enough lawyer, he'll be asking some questions. They'll ask you to produce the actual father.”

Not a closed case. Not like Tim hoped. His fingers brush through dark curls that are so like Jason's. "They can do that?” He asks with a fury at them, at Lucas, and at himself for not looking into this sooner. “Is she alright? The doctor said she's doing well." He suddenly has his doubts.

Bruce nods, placing a hand on his shoulder. Tim leans into him, taking a shuddering breath against the momentary panic that his child is not healthy. "There's no reason to believe it's anything major. I suggest we see an expert to find out what this is but the discrepancy is related to her paternity. There's no reason to believe anything is wrong." He pauses. “But they can do that. You're unmated, unmarried, and omega. They can ask you to name the father.”

Ruby moves her face to his neck, huffing and starting to suck the skin there, signaling that she's hungry."I need to get her a bottle," Tim says. His mind is racing. His leg aches. His heart hurts in a way that isn't physical. "You said there was an expert in Germany? On the children of two omegas?”

Bruce nods. “Call her,” Tim says. “I want to know what is going on with my child.” 

~*~*~

Tim does a lot of self-abasement in the days that follow. He admits everything to Jason, despite his best intentions not to do so. He wonders if he should have done the amniocentisis and if it would have shown the same oddness in her genetics. He researches what feels like hundreds of genetic abnormalities and none of them match what is showing up in Ruby. She's healthy. She's developing normally so far. More sources tell him that than tell him something is wrong with her.

"Virgin birth," Jason suggests teasingly. He's standing beside Ruby, rubbing her chest to soothe her after a crying fit so Tim can eat. "You wished so hard you cloned yourself. So I guess not technically _virgin_ but asexual reproduction?" He pauses. “She's asleep, by the way.”

Tim scowls at him, spearing a potato off his plate and savagely chewing on it. "Considered," He admits. "The genetic signature is different than mine and she would have to be a boy. I'm clearly the maternal parent. Her paternal genetics are like yours but not quite. Like if I slept with your brother or dad or something." Another layer to the mystery. 

"I don't have a brother and you sleeping with my dad would raise all kinds of questions," Jason replies. 

“Maybe more distant than that. The point is that her genetic signature doesn't match anyone I slept with. Anyone ever.” 

"Can't we just forge the papers and call it a day? You know I don't care." Jason looks almost sad. Stricken. Tim feels so guilty for putting him through this and informing him that Ruby wasn't his had been, possibly, one of the worst things Tim has ever had to do. 

Tim sighs. "I want to know. I need to know. In case something's wrong." He glances to the bassinet where Ruby is sleeping, oblivious to all the trouble she's causing. Tim can definitely sympathize with his daughter; he's felt like he causes trouble simply by existing sometimes too. 

“She's fine,” Jason insists. Jason has been there for nearly every exam. Tim's caught Jason just staring at Ruby when she's only in a diaper, has seen him running his fingers over her pink skin and checking her for any imperfection. Any sign something is wrong, but only when he thinks Tim isn't looking. Like he doesn't want to be seen worrying. “The doctors have said that so far, haven't they?”

“We haven't had a geneticist look at her,” Tim replies. “But so far she seems normal. I want her to be as perfect as I think she is but I won't forgive myself if she has something that early intervention might cure or solve.” He can't fail her in that respect. “This doctor in Germany specializes in disorders like this.”

"I'm coming with you, baby bird," Jason tells him, arms coming around him and lips resting on the top of his head. "I know how you are with mysteries you can't figure out. Besides, they'll need a sample from me, right? Unless Bruce just has my blood on file..."

"He does," Tim notes with amusement. "Blood samples from all of us, actually. Not the actual blood but the results of it. He runs them all when we become Robin."

"I imagine the blood wouldn't age like fine wine," Jason says and sits at the table with Tim. Tim rests his head on Jason's shoulder, wondering at the lingering scent of alpha on Jason and if he's borrowed his clothes from Dick or Bruce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got any requests? Prompts? Get them in either in reviews or in my totally neglected [tumblr](https://strikeyourcolors.tumblr.com/ask)! I do enjoy hearing from all of you and there's some great ideas out there. Particularly for this series, but anything else I've written is obviously fair game. 
> 
> ...except who is really here unless you're a fan of this series in particular?


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby's paternity is confirmed. Jason finds out something strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still wowed by the amount of comments last chapter. And the theories! The majority of you got it right or were on the right track. And I'm almost disappointed that I didn't make Ra's the father of Tim's baby. AU where that happens, anyone? Because I'm going to miss this universe and we only have two chapters to go after this one! I mean, unless someone wants to suggest a scene or two they'd like to see before this wraps up. I do take them into account and oftentimes they make it in because I don't know when I'll be revisiting this universe :(
> 
> That said, I'm not a scientist. I'm not a doctor. Not that it would help with a fictional world with fictional sexes but, you know. I tried to go with a plausible and not completely stupid solution! You've all been great through this story and I love the reviews and strong feelings.

They fly to Germany a day later, after getting the clear from Leslie Tompkins as to Ruby's safety. It's not a commercial flight so she's safe from the germs. She doesn't cry during take off or landing and Tim doesn't even have to give her a bottle for her ears to pop. Not a lot in her routine changes. Bruce, to his regret, has to stay behind but he's given them yet more paperwork for false identities and Alfred is on loan as though the two of them aren't enough to take care of Ruby and manage a medical appointment. Tim is still sore and exhausted, bleeding sluggishly and walking with a pronounced limp when he can walk at all, but he doesn't want to be coddled. Ruby is his baby and his responsibility and he'll take care of it. 

The clinic is nice. Modern design and the smell of the high-end antiseptic that doesn't make Tim think of the hospital where his mother died or his father lingered. The staff, likewise, is polite and knowledgeable if impersonal. It isn't the loving reception they'd received at Dr. Grace's office, but it's much better than some of the other places. They also don't seem at all scandalized by Tim's situation. It's kind of reassuring for him to know there are weirder people and weirder cases in the world.

There's another heel stick for Ruby and a regular blood draw for both Jason and Tim. They're both distracted by Ruby actually seeming to look at the world around her, which is a relief from worrying at what all their blood is going to reveal. "I don't believe her vision is so limited," Jason says, head on Tim's shoulder as he peers at her and she squints back. 

"Eight to ten inches from her face for a few weeks," Tim confirms. "Baby humans are some of the more helpless newborns." 

Jason snorts, lifting his head as a nurse comes into the room. They've tried to make them comfortable, but a doctor's office is still a doctor's office. Jason is still on guard and very near the edge. "We need another blood sample," The nurse explains. They've conversed in German but kept the medical conversations to English alone before they risk something being lost in translation.

"She's going to run out of blood," Tim jokes, not looking forward to soothing Ruby yet again. The poor baby has been stabbed more times than he wants to think about. He starts to remove her sock, surprised when the nurse shakes his head in refusal.

"Not from her. From you." He points to Jason. Jason looks less than thrilled. It had been a hassle finding a vein the first time. Still, he willingly extends his arm and Tim does his best to distract him from what's going on. Jason's going to do anything for Ruby and that's reassuring. They are both going to compromise to get to the bottom of this mystery. 

Tim has already submitted to having Ruby examined here as well, though the doctor seemed a little nervous with both parents hovering. Tim went through a superficial check of his physical state but upon realizing that he was early postpartum, they felt more invasive parts of the exam better left done by a physician familiar with him. Jason they had left alone until now because they knew a pissed off patient when they saw one. Tim can't blame them for avoiding the conflict and choosing their battles. 

"You're an omega?" The nurse questions and Jason confirms it, looking a little annoyed. The nurse bravely plows ahead and Tim hopes he's getting paid a little extra for this because Jason is definitely getting more and more uncomfortable as the questions continue. And discomfort for Jason usually leads to anger. He wiggles Ruby near Jason, hoping to cut off that rage before it goes any further. It does distract him momentarily. The blood draw is quick, this time, and Jason has extended his tongue at Ruby for her to stare at in fascination.

“I have some more questions,” The nurse explains as he fills out forms. He asks Jason when he presented as an omega. Fourteen, which was a bit late but not unheard of. He asks how many heats he's had and Jason grits out "two or three" which even Tim finds startling because Tim himself is younger and has had at least twenty-five. "No pregnancies?" The nurse asks and Jason stares at him flatly so he marks through the follow up questions. 

Tim thinks they're in the clear. Jason rattles off the names of his suppressants, at least the legal ones, and the dosages he's been on. They're high. Tim's surprised Jason hasn't dropped dead from the amount of them but he learned early on not to question how Jason copes. He wishes Alfred had stayed instead of letting them encourage him to go do some shopping and check in later; Alfred knows an amazing amount both about the drugs Jason takes and how to soothe Jason himself.

"Your physical structure," The nurse begins. "What is it like?" Jason asks a follow-up question in German, too quick for Tim to catch, and the nurse answers in kind. German sounds to Tim like an angry language anyway, but there's no mistaking that an awkward exchange has just occurred even before Jason stands up and leaves. Tim tries to follow, forgetting his leg is weak and nearly falling as he limps after him with the baby in his arms. The nurse catches him before he can hit the floor and Tim gratefully transfers Ruby to his arms while he rights himself and puts the sling around his chest properly. He has his cane, and he can use that with one hand and have one hand to hold on to a nearby object with Ruby against him hands free in the sling. 

Jason is outside smoking. It's his second cigarette by the time Tim gets to him and he angles himself so Ruby is upwind of it, looking at the burnt out little snub of its predecessor on the ground near Jason's foot. Ruby's fist is out of the material and waving around, signaling that she's awake, but she's not crying so Tim feels less guilty about sticking her in there in the first place. "You want to tell me what happened?" He tries to be gentle. But he's failing.

Jason frowns, clearly thinking he shouldn't be up and pursing him. Maybe thinking that Tim wouldn't move to do so. "They suggested an examination. They think something might be wrong with genetic material I gave her.”

That many words hadn't been exchanged, Tim knows, even if he hadn't caught exactly what they were talking about. "We don't know that," Tim says lightly. "I know you have a...thing about people touching you. Seeing you." At least in any type of capacity that wasn't sexual. Tim can guess what it stems from, but ultimately he's never really going to know unless Jason flat out tells him. By unspoken agreement, he doesn't pry into that part of Jason's life. "What if I answer the questions?" He asks at last. "I might not know some of them but then you don't have to talk about it." 

Jason feels weak. He feels like walking out. But this is for Ruby and even though she's not even a month old he already adores her more than he can say. If he might have done something to fuck up her genetics, they need to find out. He takes a long drag of the cigarette and holds the smoke in his lungs before exhaling with a frustrated noise. "I'm going to finish this and take a walk. If you want to wrap up your conversation in ten minutes?"

Tim nods. He lets Jason help him back into the exam room and the nurse looks relieved he hasn't completely chased them away. Tim explains what they are going to do, Jason nods his consent, and the nurse doesn't question that either. Tim tries not to be too in awe of how much trust Jason is placing in him to do this. 

"Your partner," The nurse begins after Jason's left. He's sitting across from Tim now, playing with Ruby's fingers. It's more a chat than an interrogation. "He appears a normal omega? Physically? Sexually?"

"The same as I do," Tim replies. "We don't involve his omega organs in our lovemaking." His face flushes as he says it. It sounds so dumb. Why had he chosen that word? This is a far cry from the more casual conversations with Dr. Grace. "But he looks normal.,” Tim hastens to add. And Tim certainly has had an up close and personal look at him. 

"Does he get aroused?" The nurse questions. His tone is bored. Tim wonders what it must be like to ask people intimate questions all day, every day, and having to translate them into several languages on top of that.

Tim hesitates. He thinks back. Obviously his cock gets hard but...Tim can't really remember Jason getting wet. Once, and that time stands out because of Jason's reaction to it. Tim had always assumed it was a personal failing of his own, or the fact Jason simply didn't respond to another omega. “Only once since we've ever been together,” Tim replies and it's good that he's answering these questions. He's not sure Jason would care to, even if Tim feels like he's violating his trust even with his permission. 

"Has he had any sexual traumas?" The question is blunt, but the tone gentles somewhat.

"I don't know. Probably." Tim tries to keep his own voice casual. He's always suspected, but he's not going to betray anything to personal to Jason by theorizing anything to strangers. He lifts Ruby up to check on her and she peers back at him and yawns contently. 

The nurse wraps up with a few more questions about Jason's sexual function. How long he's been taking the doses of suppressants and if he's ever had trouble. He doesn't seem concerned how Jason gets them and how illegal it would be to actually prescribe them. Tim answers as best as he can, glad now that he's made Jason write down the information in case something came up later. "And he's good with the baby?" The nurse questions. "He takes care of her like you do?"

"He loves her," Tim replies instantly and once again has to think. Jason thinks she hung the moon and some of the stars, there's no question. But does he take care of Ruby like Tim does? No. He's her father. He acts..."It's not like he's another omega parent, no. But I've never seen two omega parents to know how they act." It would make sense that the one not bearing the child would adopt some alpha behaviors, doesn't it? 

He's left with those thoughts for five minutes more before Jason returns. He does seem calmer, and he smells more of outside air than of cigarettes. Tim heats up a bottle with the portable warmer they've brought for him, swaying Ruby back and forth. "It seems like all she ever does is eat," Tim notes fondly. "Eat and poop and sleep." 

"Aren't babies exciting?" Jason returns, and he settles back against Tim like he was always meant to be there. They don't say anything about the questions that were asked or how they were answered. Tim already has a working theory, but he doesn't want to risk telling Jason and being wrong.

~*~*~

"The solution was really very simple," Dr. Lange informs them as they sit across from her. She's a woman in her fifties, gray haired and serious and Tim is a little intimidated by her. Intimidated enough that he doesn't point out that they've been here for nine hours and that's a bit long to wait for a simple solution. 

He realizes that she's waiting for an answer so he says "Oh?" Jason shifts Ruby up to his shoulder as she babbles and he resists the urge to put a spit cloth over him. She'll either throw up or she won't.  There's no predicting her reactions and the sooner Jason learns that the better. 

"When an alpha or an omega produces a child, the child has one set of genetics to get from each parent," She explains and Tim knows she's simplifying it but he doesn't even care as long as she knows what's happening. "When you produced a child, two omegas, you expected a match to both of you. Her genetic reading would be abnormal if you compared her as a child of two full omegas.”

Tim stares. Jason stares. They think maybe they've made a mistake coming here. "We are both omegas," Tim replies, hoping this is some kind of translation issue. "She matches my genetic signature." 

"Because _you_ are an omega," Dr. Lange replies, cutting him off. "Likewise, she would match your partner's genetics if he had given birth to her. But he didn't." Dr. Lange leans back. "When betas reproduce, they have two sets of material to pass on. One if they birth the child and one if they father it. The material is very similar in that it contains the same information, but you can't test for what you haven't seen before." She looks satisfied. Tim's brain is racing to catch up. Jason looks shell shocked. "You are a beta,” She tells Jason bluntly. “A late presenting beta. You probably went through puberty once as an omega and it changed later. You never noticed due to the drugs you were taking.”

“That can happen?” Tim asks, scientific curiosity getting the better of him. “How common is it?” Because he's half guessed at it, but between the pregnancy and the resulting baby he's been pushing it aside. There's been enough weirdness in their lives.

“Not very,” Dr. Lange responds soothingly. “It can be brought on by a hormonal shift. A trauma. A premature birth. It's incredibly rare to see, especially in an omega. Far more often you see betas shifting on the scale.” She shakes her head. “The genetic material that matches your daughter was actually very difficult to isolate. He still reads and tests largely as an omega. But when you find that material? It does match. Tell me, have you heard of genetic chimerism?” 

Tim has. “But that's not intersex, is it? That would mean Jason has another set of genetic material. Localized.” As far as he understands it. He doesn't want to talk about Jason like he's not here, but he's simply staring. Trying to absorb. 

Dr. Lange nods, a little more eager now that she realizes he understands. “The omega parts contain his main genetic signature. We would have to do a biopsy but there is a good chance anything producing semen has a different genetic code. Whether it was naturally occurring or the remnants of a fraternal twin we can't be certain without more testing. Chimerism isn't as rare as we once thought but identifying it usually only occurs in these cases.”

"There's nothing wrong with Ruby, though?" Tim asks, just to confirm. That's why they've come all this way. There's no telling how many tests Bruce has run and...well he must never have thought to look for the solution in Jason. No doubt the samples he has from Jason all match without him realizing he's looking for another genetic signature only present in certain parts. Tim hopes Jason hasn't been leaving semen all over town for Bruce to find. Jason has gone very, very still. 

"Nothing," Dr. Lange confirms. "The genetically sound child of an omega and a beta.” Her gaze shifts to Jason. “Do you have any questions? You are the interesting one in this situation, after all. The child of a chimera is a normal child except for not showing as genetically yours. Organ donation may be difficult, for an example.”

"How long have I been a beta?" He sounds strangled. He's not stupid, but all of it is flying so far past his head. He's circling around the basic fact. His genetics have changed. He's not completely an omega. 

Dr. Lange looks momentarily confused, but that fades to sympathetic. "You were born this way. But as far as when it manifested? Over a decade, more than likely. Intersex betas who have heats are uncommon enough that it's typically safe to assume once you have a heat, you are an omega. After the change, you may have had a heat but I suspect it was mild?” Jason doesn't answer, so she continues. “Afterward the cocktail of hormones you were on prevented any symptoms from appearing. You wouldn't have noticed missing heats because you weren't expecting them to arrive any longer. Part of you is omega. Some of you is alpha. It balances out to a beta. Quite rare.”

Tim wonders how many times they will hear these words. Rare. Uncommon. Usually it comes back to bite them on the ass but he's too happy that Ruby is fine. Ruby is normal. It's Jason who is the uncommon one. A rare intersex beta. A chimera removed from the streets of Gotham. He shifts Ruby away from Jason without so much as a twitch, settling her back against his chest. 

"I would suggest," The doctor begins with hesitation, "That you undergo a physical exam to find out exactly what is in working order any longer and what is not. Spontaneous heats can happen even to a beta but the removal of those organs would alleviate that if you no longer wanted to deal with the trouble it can cause." She pauses again. "Of course that would be something to speak to another physician about." 

Tim asks her to write it down. He asks for copies of the medical records because he knows soon enough they'll be destroyed. Jason is oddly quiet, acting more shocked about this than Tim has ever seen him. Everything is provided to them and Tim thanks the staff profusely, letting Jason carry Ruby out of the clinic while he limps along beside them. 

He greets Alfred with a smile on his face, letting the older man help him tuck Ruby into her stroller. Jason still looks shocked enough that he doesn't protest, and he's good for nothing complex.

"Did everything go well, Master Jason?" Alfred asks, even though Tim has been babbling to assure him it did.

"I'm a beta," He tells Alfred, and finally smiles. "And I'm her dad. A lot of people in that betting pool are going to be paying up!"

"Wait," Tim questions. "What betting pool? Were you in on the Titans one?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we go. Jason is a chimera with alpha organs (and sperm) which effectively renders him a beta! ...shut up it all worked in my head, okay. As I've said, Jason wasn't a major part of this story to begin with and then he sort of just took off as far as emotional and physical issues so I wanted to give him an acceptable closure to his story that wasn't just baby and everything magically goes away. We'll see some follow up in the next couple of chapters. Got a comment you'd rather not post here? A suggestion? A prompt you'd like to see in the future that doesn't have to be tied to this story but certainly can be? Throw it [here](https://strikeyourcolors.tumblr.com/ask). I hope this was a satisfying resolution for all of you from last chapter!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim sees Lucas again. Jason has trouble being alone with Ruby. Tim picks up an interesting habit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah one more chapter (and an epilogue!) to go. My heart. It hurts. My brain starts plotting sequels because I really have enjoyed building this universe. All that said? This chapter is pure babyfluff. I wanted to show a bit more of how Jason and Tim both interact with her when she's still tiny and this chapter is pretty much just that. It barely moves the plot along (except for tying up one loose end) but I didn't want to make it a one shot so...well you get a chapter of interaction with Ruby since that's a little rare with baby fics. With a bonus of two suggestions coming to life in this chapter so by all means claim your idea <3
> 
> Thanks for the comments and reviews. I always appreciate and enjoy them and keep the suggestions coming if you'd liked anything tacked on. Or one-shotted. I can't believe we're almost to the end.
> 
> Slight warnings in this chapter for violence, blood, and misogynistic language. If you'd like to skip it, go to the first chapter break!

It's another sparkling Gotham party for the elite. Polite smiles and carefully chosen fashions. Less attention paid to this particular once since it is a charity event that won't go into the wee hours of the morning, but enough to remind him. He hates it. He's always hated it. Since he was a kid old enough to stay up late and sip grape juice by his parents' sides at these kinds of functions. Fortunately in that aspect they were gone most of the time and he had to attend precious few. Still, he distinctly remembers wishing he was young enough to be left with a nanny. 

Like Ruby should be, really. The baby's weight is surprisingly heavy in his arms. She's pressed and proper in a lace dress that's gold and white and so soft that Jason had rubbed his cheek all over it. Or maybe he wanted to leave his scent on the baby. Tim's still working that kind of thing out for himself and drawing attention to what Jason does only makes him worry over it. Alfred picked the dress, Tim and Jason got her changed, Alfred got her re-changed when it turned out they missed a few of the ribbons on the dress, and Tim went to put on a suit that fits a little more snugly than he'd like. He can't even blame baby weight so much as he can blame bulking up again to be Red Robin after Ruby's birth. 

She's far too young for this, but Bruce has insisted. His strategy is that by giving the public limited and controlled glimpses of her, the less reputable sources will start to find her less interesting. Tim doubts it, both because he's cynical and because he finds her to be the most adorable baby in the world. Sometimes he catches himself staring at her and has to stop and focus on the task at hand. He's disturbed by the behavior, even though he knows it's wired into his biology. It's not even like Jason is much better with her. 

Ruby naps in his arms and Tim laments the lack of a sling for her. But it would ruin the line of his suit and he would constantly be taking her out for people to get a glimpse. They cluster to him. They coo over her tiny shoes and touch the hem of her long dress with an almost worshipful caution. Tim is glad for that; he's not letting anyone actually touch her skin let alone hold her. Another omega challenge for him to face. He doesn't want any other alpha's stink on her. Especially not for Jason to smell later. 

Jason's out doing the vigilante thing again. Tim envies him. Tim's leg is still too weak and his nerves still too confused for him to manage much. He's lucky enough to limp around the ballroom without looking like he's limping. Bruce had even booked a room in the hotel the function is being held at and though he claims it's in case he needs to change into costume, Tim knows it's because Bruce anticipates that Tim might need to retreat at some point in the evening. 

"May I borrow her for a little while?" Bruce asks Tim, startling him from where he's sitting out of the way and largely out of view of the crowd. Ruby is awake, content enough to stare at the twinkling lights the room had been decorated in. She curls close to Tim whenever she's getting tired of people gawking at her, and he sympathize even if it almost makes him ache, seeing her curled in ways he knows he did as an infant and even as a small child. 

He's hesitant. It's not that he doesn't trust Bruce, or even that Bruce hasn't already waltzed her around the room tonight. But he's protective and he scans the room for threats just in case. Bruce, damn him, looks amused. But at least the papers have eased up on suggesting he's her father; her pale eyes have caused speculation but otherwise there's not a bit of Bruce in her face and Damian has proven that Wayne genes breed strong and show true. 

Damian has also managed to get out of this event. Damn him. Tim can be mad at him for this, even as nice as Damian has been about Ruby. "Just for a few minutes," Tim replied. He really was trying not to hover over Ruby but as both his daughter and Red Robin's daughter and Red Hood's, she was in danger. He had absolutely no doubt that Jason was going to have her kicking ass and taking names before she could even start preschool but at the moment she was small and soft and entirely helpless. 

Bruce lifts her from Tim, careful to fold the train of her dress over his arm. She looks positively tiny even though she's gained some weight. Bruce acts like he actually raised all of his kids from infancy as he adjusts the headband in her hair and wipes a bit of spittle at the corner of her mouth. Then he's off into the crowd to be surrounded by people who desperately want to see the baby and hadn't wanted to deal with Tim. Or maybe they are simply people who want to get in with Bruce. Tim doesn't care and he grabs a glass of white wine as a waiter circulates with it. He's watching Ruby, glad for a change that his leg hurts since it keeps him from following Bruce around like a lost puppy. Or, worse yet, a new parent. He knows Tim Drake needs to be seen as a loving parent but not one too concerned with Bruce handling his grandchild. It's bad for their professional image. It also makes people think they can have an edge if there is a rift there and, for Ruby's sake, Tim needs to make sure she's protected on all sides. 

"Didn't think I'd ever see you at one of these things again," A voice drawls. A voice that makes Tim's stomach clench and turn and his fingers tighten so hard on his glass that he nearly breaks the stem of it. Lucas Powers is standing there, tousled golden hair and well-cut suit that manages to look both shabby and attractive. "Don't omegas usually retire from the social scene after they breed?"

Tim snorts. "Not for the last hundred years or so," He retorts. He thinks about standing up, but Lucas is taller than him anyway and he won't be fearsome wobbling on his bad leg. "I didn't think we were ever going to be invited to the same parties after word got out." That they broke up, largely. Lucas had tried telling everyone who would listen that he was Ruby's father. After actually getting a look at Ruby, no one listened. Tim still resents Lucas for doing anything at all that shadows her birth. 

But, surprisingly, Lucas is holding up his hand. "Didn't come over to you to fight," He protests. "Just wanted to see how you were. How your kid is. I noticed you're just here with Mr. Wayne." 

The formality almost makes Tim smile. Almost. He can't read Lucas's motivations in this moment, but he can't exactly throw something at him or shriek or even storm away without causing a scene. "I'm fine. She's fine," He bites out. Then he decides that, just maybe, he can afford to be a little more charitable. "We're happy, Lucas. We've both got good things going on." Tim has business dealings and Jason that are going well. Ruby has less of that but she's well-loved and entirely too spoiled and Tim thinks there are worse things for a baby to be, especially in a city like Gotham. 

Lucas's brown eyes have strayed to watch Bruce, and Ruby. He isn't in a threatening posture, so Tim lets it slide. If he's been here long he's no doubt already taken her in. "I wish she was mine," Lucas says quietly. 

"Well, she's not," Tim shoots back instantly. "She's mine," He adds though that's largely unnecessary. No one is questioning that Ruby is Tim's. They just want to know the other half and Tim doesn't feel like anyone is entitled to that part of his life. 

Lucas starts to posture. Tim had found it sexy once, the way he would seem suddenly so much bigger and in control. The way the fabric of his suit would shift and suddenly people would want to give him what he wanted. Tim certainly had offered him things for it. He might feel a little ashamed now, but he's trying to chalk it all up to a growing experience. He found out who Tim Drake is. He knows what Tim Drake has done. He owes Lucas Powers absolutely nothing. He's sure his face conveys all of this, his eyes gone cold and hard as he stands.

He really isn't tall enough to be imposing. But where Jason and the alphas in his life can intimidate someone into backing down with size and brute threat alone, Tim knows that's not his advantage. His advantage is in his words, in his threats, and now he's having a moment of letting Lucas clearly know he won't back down. This is about protecting his daughter. Protecting his lover. His family, and Tim isn't going to stand aside and let others fight all these battles for him. 

He faces off with Lucas. It's long enough that he actually half thinks Lucas is going to try to strike him. Distantly he can hear Bruce sharing a story about how he had put Ruby's diaper on backwards. Everyone is laughing. _Brucie_ is laughing at the edited tale. He doesn't include the part where Ruby had peed, the backwards diaper had leaked and soaked her sleeper, and Jason had come in to find a hysterically screeching infant and nearly come to blows with Bruce over it. 

Fuck alphas, Tim decides in this moment as he turns so Lucas can't circle behind him. Fuck alphas thinking they own the world. Fuck any of them who think they can lay any claim at all to his child. He's sure he's baring his teeth. He knows he's getting into a better stance for combat. He should turn and walk away. He should brush it off.

Not this time. He can't manage it. "You don't smell like any alpha," Lucas tells him. "You think I don't know what your daddy's money can buy for paternity results? What other alpha would come sniffing around you when you're such an uppity bitch?"

He's heard it before, and not even all the times have been Lucas. He can brush that much of it off. "My daughter isn't yours and I suggest you drop it before something bad happens to you." By his hand of another member of his family. He knows how to stand firm, and he knows when someone is putting himself in stupid danger over nothing. Lucas is doing that. Messing with any infant is a sure way to get yourself in a world of hurt by the parents and it's especially true in this case.

Lucas snorts at him, taking a step forward. Tim tenses all over again. "Or is that it? Daddy didn't need the paternity test because he already knew? No other reason he would have taken you in except you were just something to fuck." 

Tim sees red. Red on the edges of his vision and he idly wonders if this is what it's like for Jason when he's experiencing a Pit-induced rage. He's heard it. It's never been so bluntly put and never by someone Tim had been close to. By someone he _loved_ once who could have very well been the father of his child under slightly different circumstances. "It's not even an alpha," Tim bites out, words clipped, body feeling strangely disconnected. "Turns out you didn't have the balls to get it done. And you know? You don't deserve her. And you don't deserve me."

Lucas lunges in. Tim swings his hand, heedless of the wine glass in it. All things considered it's a lucky shot and a clumsy shot at the same time. The glass breaks against the side of Lucas's face and the spray of blood is actually kind of amazing. It's all the rage Tim's had building in him since he last express it breaking Lucas's jaw. And apparently he's always going to go for face shots with this particular alpha. 

The room of people doesn't hesitate. Time has stopped for Tim but no one hears the glass break. No one sees the spray of crimson before it starts to drip down Lucas's face. He didn't hit anything vital. Tim knows head wounds just bleed an unorthodox amount. 

"Fuck!" Lucas yells and that does draw attention. Tim feels a sting in his fingers, looking down to realize that there's a glass shard lodged in his hand too. Well, so much for denying accountability and fleeing the scene of the crime. Lucas swipes at him but he's clumsy and stunned and Tim can just back up more. "Did you see what he did?" He demands at a woman nearby. A matron of one of the older families, Tim knows, who had cooed more over the dress Ruby had on than over Ruby herself. 

"I saw what you did!" The woman huffs, extending a gloved finger angrily at Lucas. "Threatening an omega like that! And a sick one, too! What kind of an alpha are you?"

Tim blesses old fashioned, antiquated gender roles because it allows the woman to cover for him. To let him have a breather. He sees Bruce gunning for them, putting Ruby up on his shoulder. Tim wonders what he would do if he had to fight. He feels giddy at the thought. 

"You're hysterical," The old woman is telling him. "Sit down, boy. Someone bring him some water!" She starts to fan him ineffectively with her clutch purse and it's all so ridiculous that it's starting to feel surreal. 

Bruce kneels by his side. Ruby tips her head to stare at him with those wide, pale, curious eyes. IF he didn't know better he would say she's focusing in on the blood. “Hi, pretty girl,” He greets her. His gaze shifts to Bruce. “Sorry. I made a mess.” 

Of the party. Of things. Of his life. Bruce has been good lately about not questioning. Bruce is proof that someone can learn, someone can change, even if Tim feels guilty sometimes that Jason suffered through being the first test so things could be better for Tim. 

Water is produced. Bruce's hand is on his forehead. Tim feels like he blinks and misses entire moments. A blink and bits of glass are pulled out of his hand. Another and it's bandaged up. “You're, exhausted” Bruce says, or Tim thinks he says. Bruce is speaking slowly and Tim is trying to read his lips. 

It makes sense, Tim decides. The woman from before has Ruby on her lap, in Tim's sight and reach, and he's so obscenely grateful he might cry. He's certainly going to send her a thank you card. But he answers all of the doctor's questions. The doctor who appeared from the crowd and Tim is pretty sure is actually a podiatrist who knows nothing about exhaustion. 

Bruce helps him to the car even if Tim can walk fine on his own. He also keeps a hold of Ruby despite Tim's protests and it's only when they are safely in the car that he lets Tim pitch forward to press his face against his sleepy-eyed daughter. 

“Well,” Bruce says. “You certainly know how to make your point. And to be remembered at these events.” 

“Ugh,” Tim says, starting to come back to himself a little more with a bottle of water and once the shock has faded. He remembers Lucas on the floor. He remembers him angry and belligerent. He's not sure he wants to remember anything else. “What's wrong with me?”

Bruce reaches out to touch his hair. It's an oddly paternal gesture. “You've been going non-stop since Ruby was born. Have you maybe considered you can't do it all any more? How much sleep did you get? When was the last time you ate?”

Tim wants to argue. Jason feeds him and Jason makes sure he sleeps. But between Ruby and vigilante work and Tim trying to at least look at some of the projects for Wayne Enterprises... “Point,” He agrees tiredly. 

“Lucas Powers will probably need stitches,” Bruce notes. “I'm proud of you.” Another pause and a wry grin spreads across his face. “Don't tell Damian I said that.” 

Tim can only laugh. “Is that your parenting advice? Lie to your kids?”

“You'll see one day,” Bruce tells him with his gaze on Ruby. “Just wait.”

~*~*~

Ruby smiles with Tim's smile and Jason is utterly destroyed every time. It's been a long road getting to the point of Ruby smiling, but Jason's thinking he would travel it again and again for one of those looks. Even if it is a little eerie seeing his lover reflected back in his daughter. Ruby's lips, Jason thinks, are going to be more his than Tim's. But the smile and the way her face moves? Entirely Tim's.

He's happy to have coaxed a few smiles from her at all, actually. She's been battling some kind of illness for a few days and a slight fever has made her fussy. Tim's also had something with the Titans he hasn't wanted to miss. Finally Jason had to all but throw him out the door with his bag. He'll be fine with Ruby, even a slightly sick and slightly angry Ruby. Tim needs time away and Tim hasn't had that in far too long. He needs to reconnect with his friends, needs to find his footing for Red Robin again, and Jason is all for encouraging his baby bird to spread his wings even if he has to catapult him out of the nest again after Ruby's arrival. 

Ruby squirms and kicks and Jason glances down to where he has a bottle held against her mouth. It's just water; he's keeping her hydrated rather than feeding her at the moment. "No more?" He asks her. "Can't say I'd want to drink it straight either but I don't think I'm allowed to add anything." Well he knows he's not supposed to. Hydration, the doctor had said, and preferably water over anything pre-mixed. Tim's philosophy is that if Ruby never has anything sweet in her bottle in the first place she won't know what she's missing. It strikes a little close to home for Jason but then he can easily remind himself of all the things his little girl has that he never did. 

He puts the bottle aside and presses her against his shoulder, letting her mouth the collar of his t-shirt. It's strange as well watching another human develop a personality. As her vision has expanded, so has Ruby's attitudes toward the world. She prefers late nights and later mornings. Pressed against Jason's chest is her favorite place in the world aside from being snuggled against Tim. She's quick to anger and meltdowns, like him Jason knows, but they pass quickly. She's like Tim in her obsessiveness and already she harbors a very picky preference for how her diapers are put on. 

Speaking of. Jason pats the back of the blue and pink sleeper she's wearing and makes a face. That's probably what had disturbed her from the bottle. "Let's get you cleaned up," He tells her, swinging her into the air as he stands. "Daddy has a bottle of beer with his name on it and a monster movie marathon for us both until you conk out." Probably not the most appropriate form of entertainment but he wouldn't trade his late-night movie binges with his daughter on his lap for anything else. When she gets old enough to understand what's on the screen they might have to swap out monsters for little mermaids but he's content to reap the benefits of their arrangement so far. 

He plops her onto her changing table, pulling off her pants and unsnapping her outfit and pulling it up her waist. God bless the genius who invented onesies, really. Ruby giggles at him, jamming a hand into her mouth as he peels away the diaper. "You know," Jason comments. "We should work out a system where you do this when I can hand you off." But it's by far not the most disgusting thing he's had to clean up. And he'd much rather do this himself since he knows he gets her diaper put on to her satisfaction. 

Ruby looks at him with those big, pale eyes, and grins toothlessly. "I know," Jason agrees. "For some reason you think poopy diapers are hilarious. You probably have your Uncle Dick's sense of humor." She giggles again at him, squirming as he wipes her and for a moment he thinks she might decide to pee on him, too. She can't get them in the face like he's told a boy can but she can certainly make a mess. 

She doesn't, though. He has her clean and re-diapered, talking nonsense to her before he realizes she's gasping. He lifts her up and she coughs. That's not uncommon; especially not since she's caught this chest cold. But the cough is a little, yipping bark of a noise. She gasps again and repeats it. "Shit," He whispers, all thoughts of not swearing in front of the baby gone in the face of this. "Oh fuck, oh fuck." 

He's dealt with hostage situations and bombs and even his own death. But the wheezing coming from one infant threatens to fell him. He needs to take a step back from this emotionally. Ruby wheezes and coughs. He holds her arms above her head for her and she follows his face with her eyes. Her skin isn't too warm or too cold. Her lips are a normal color. 

It's too late to call her doctor and expect an answer. He can try for Tim, but he knows Tim will fly straight back. He could probably search her symptoms online but...

Alfred. Jason scrambles for his phone, holding Ruby face down over his knees to rub her back. She stops breathing, just for a moment, and his heart nearly leaps out of his throat. He can barely speak when the phone is answered with a polite "Wayne Residence" like it isn't past midnight. 

"T's Ruby," Jason manages. The baby in question starts to cough again and Jason rubs her chest. Her back. Anything. "She's coughing like this. Do I need to take her to the hospital?" He's already contemplating how to bolt there. What's the fastest way? Where are her medical cards? 

"I can hear her," Alfred assures him. Alfred's tone is calm and reassuring. He walks Jason through taking her temperature and making sure she's not struggling for air, despite the wheezing she keeps doing. "It sounds as though Miss Ruby is suffering from a mild case of the croup," Alfred announces at last. "Run the shower at its hottest and shut the door with her in the room. Then, bundle her up and take her out of doors." 

Jason juggles baby and phone to the bathroom, turning the water as hot as it will go. Ruby squirms and fusses, which he tries to take as a good sign. Every time she stops breathing he swears his heart stops. He can hear Alfred talking to him, and he can absorb the information. Keep doing this. Go at once to the hospital if she has too much trouble breathing or it lasts for too long. Alfred promises to come over as soon as he can and Jason tries to reassure him it's alright. He can handle this.

He can handle it, right? Ruby is going to get sick. She's going to get hurt. That's life, no matter how well they protect her. And while Jason will eviscerate any outside force that wants to hurt her, he knows he can't beat up the floor if she trips and skins her knee. 

He wraps Ruby up in his jacket and zips her inside of it once her breathing has settled a little. They go outside the apartment into the still chilly night air, and he's so relieved to feel her tiny chest moving without any hitch. She leans back to watch him and he ghosts his lips over her forehead. "Master Jason?" Alfred questions on the other end of the phone, quiet until this moment. "Do you have things well in hand?"

"Yeah," Jason breathes.  His own chest has been insanely tight. He's been so horrified, so afraid for someone who feels so fragile. "So this is croup? I heard about it." From women in apartments next to theirs or above. From people angry that they'd had to sit up all night with a sick child who wouldn't sleep. 

"She should be over it in a couple of days," Alfred reassures him. "Master Bruce had the nastiest cases of it and I'm told Master Damian was the same. Alternate moist, hot air with the cool air outside. When she sleeps she will probably appreciate being propped up." 

"I'll hold her," Jason agrees instantly. He knows even if he put her in her crib that he'd be keeping vigil right beside it. "Thanks. For everything. I'd be a wreck without you." 

He can hear Alfred's pleased hum through the phone. "Any time, my dear boy." 

Jason borrows the baby sling and struggles with it (that's more Tim's department) but it lets him put Ruby against him while he gets a humidifier set up. He sets up camp on the couch, flipping onto the monster movie marathon while mapping out his paths for when Ruby coughs. To the bathroom, out the door. He's got this. 

"Daddy's skipping his beer," He assures Ruby as she huffs at him while he settles her back against him. "But you can have a bottle." She sucks contentedly at it when he offers, seemingly not caring that it's water. Her tiny hand curls around his finger and they watch Dr. Frankenstein start to bring his monster to life. 

*~*~*

"Shh shh shh," Tim soothes as Ruby starts to whimper. "Papa's here. Papa's right here, darling." The baby flops around a little bit, unsettling the bow from where it has been carefully taped to her head. Tim decides it looks cute and tousled, snapping a few pictures anyway. Dorothy Gale didn't wear a ruby red bow, and Ruby herself has failed to kick off her slippers, so he's content enough to pull the bow away and continue the photoshoot. 

He doesn't even have a particular fondness for Wizard of Oz. He's not sure when he got this carried away. Or when this had even started. 

_The bear hat_ , he decides. It had started when Damian, of his own free will, had purchased her a tiny crocheted hat with bear ears on it. Alfred had immediately created a diaper cover with a tiny bear tail on it and Tim had only wanted to take a photo of her in it to show them their contributions were appreciated. But of course his phone hadn't displayed the gifts to their greatest advantage. So he'd brought out one of his old cameras and one thing turned into another. 

Just one photo, he'd thought, of the hat and the diaper cover. But he couldn't find anywhere to position her for maximum cuteness. Of course then he had decided to build her a forest burrow out of a laundry hamper and fake plant life. A monster had been born that day. He knows he's the monster. 

Dorothy photo shoot finished, Tim picks his daughter back up and showers her face in kisses. She's quiet instantly, having just wanted the physical contact. Tim evaluates sometimes how spoiled she is. There's always an arm to hold her, especially at the manor. Most of the time he has her in a sling pressed against him. 

He surveys the strewn costuming and prop pieces. He's pushed the couch in his living room against a far wall and turned it around to properly hold the backdrops. He has a little path through the room that tests his precarious balance but it works. He's gotten a lot done today, striking between Ruby's feeding and her nap. Ruby has been an astronaut and a bee and a very artistic flower. She's been Maria Goeppert-Mayer for him as well as Kathryn Janeway. The endless star background had seemed to disorient her a little too much for that to last long, however. He doesn't want to scare her or make her sick. Yoda had gone much better in the grassy swamp background. 

She is drowsy, mouthing at his collarbone the way she does when she's ready to go to sleep. It's amazing how quickly he's picked up her language. How easily they can communicate between the two of them. Tim never would have guessed how intuitive parts of parenthood would be. But he thinks the light is good. It will hold out through one more shoot. He has an idea. An idea that usually works only when babies are soft and contented like she is now. 

He bought the stocking in bright red thinking it would go with a Red Riding Hood theme. It sort of is, but not how he originally planned it. He undresses her easily and eases her into the fabric, trying not to wake her up too much. They make it look so easy in the instructional videos! Yet it feels like she has a few extra limbs during the process. Maybe babies were not meant to be crammed into socks. But Tim perseveres, coaxing her to fold herself up and settling her into some fabric. Not just any fabric. Jason's leather coat. He takes a few shots just like that. 

The helmet is next. He's made certain there are no explosives in the spare. It's one Jason keeps around for appearances rather than practicality. And it's easy to slide next to Ruby and drape her upper half over. A few more photographs and Tim is trying not to squeal as he adjusts the lighting. He's an adult. He's an adult who is vowing to himself that after this his daughter will actually get an uninterrupted nap. 

It had taken a while for him to think of something to pose her with for himself. He's tried green and his bo staff but that hadn't turned out so well. His cape is what he's finally decided on. For next time. As it is he takes an emblem and sticks it to the side of the stocking she's in. His fingers trace the double Rs on it fondly and Ruby squirms. Back to work. Tim tries to make it as quick as he possibly can when he's working in a living room with limited lighting options and no assistant. 

"Did a wardrobe monster throw up in here?" Jason asks. Tim actually jumps, barely managing not to drop his camera. For being so big, Jason moves quietly. Especially when Tim is distracted. He takes a step into the living room, already largely stripped down form his regular Red Hood uniform and stops dead. He's seen Ruby. "What are you doing?" His tone is so flat that Tim can't tell what's going through his mind. 

Tim holds up the camera in silent explanation. 

"She's sleeping on my helmet," Jason informs him like he hadn't draped the baby there himself. "In my jacket." He gestures around them. "Do you do this often?"

Tim's not sure if he should be ashamed. He chooses not to be, chin sticking up defiantly like he's much younger. "She's cute! And it helps me practice my photography skills." 

Jason sighs. "Well. This explains the box I found that was painted like a Batmobile." He sits to begin taking off his boots. Tim tries to focus on a few last shots of Ruby as she rubs her eyes, but he can feel Jason's gaze on him. When he looks up, Jason is dangling a hastily constructed mat from between his fingers. "Really, Tim? You put our daughter on the Periodic Table? Is she really made of Barium, Boron, and Yttrium?" 

He can choose to get offended or he can choose to own up to what he's done. Ultimately they'll have hundreds of photos of Ruby as she grows. Creative photos. It's kept him sane these past months...or maybe it's driven him a little crazy. He's not sure. "I did a Jane Austen shoot for you," He tells Jason. "Wanna see?"

Ruby starts to stir and Tim gets her off the helmet before she can roll too far. Jason's fingers are twitching. He can see hard fought omega urges going off inside Jason's brain. He wants to nest. He wants to put Ruby in his nest.It's cute. Tim sits beside him on the couch, picking his way carefully through the assembled props. Jason instantly runs his fingers down her breastbone while Tim gets her properly attired again. "Jane Austen, huh?" He grins at Tim, roguish and confident. "I'd like to see those. But I'm calling dibs on putting her to sleep while you clean up this disaster zone."

Tim can't completely argue with that so he kisses Ruby's face and hands her over.   
Jason bundles her against him with a kind of protective, official air like he's not about to sing to her or read to her or do any other number of soft, sweet things. Tim sets to work packing away costumes and props and getting their living area back in order. He's almost done by the time Jason returns. 

“I'm banning you from getting any dogs under ten pounds or any cats that won't claw the shit out of you if you try to dress them,” Jason informs him. “It's for your own good.”

“Damian gave me the bear hat for her,” Tim says instantly. 

Jason laughs, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend's waist and pulling him in for a kiss. “Well. I'll have a talk with him after I deal with you.” 

Tim hums his pleasure, hoping that Jason doesn't intend to deal with them in the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment? Question? Request (for this or another series or something completely random)? Comment here or [here](https://strikeyourcolors.tumblr.com/ask) and I'll get back to you. Thanks for reading!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason finally gets some answers and counseling about his issues. Tim sees an enemy in the park. Life moves on with Ruby in tow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Epilogue to follow next week but this is the ending to the fic and it kind of breaks my heart. This has been such a fun story to write and all of your reactions have kept me going throughout! Well, I'll save the mushy stuff for next week when I know I won't update again! Thanks for following along.

Every week, Alfred arrives at his apartment for what Tim likes to think of as beta training. He stayed through the first couple of sessions. Alfred takes some blood from Jason and they run it to check hormone levels. For the most part, Jason stays a beta with a surplus of omega hormones. One particular week after a particularly bitter phone call from Lucas to Tim, Jason had a surplus of alpha hormones but is still firmly in a beta category. He doesn't go in for further testing and biopsies as to which parts are which sex. Tim can't blame him. 

"The shifts can make you very volatile," Alfred explains and behaves like Jason isn't tenderly re-positioning his daughter to make certain she has reached a level of utter comfort one moment and breaking a lamp the next. The fact that Jason hasn't truly been an omega since he came back explains a lot, Tim thinks privately, but has the good manners not to say so. Or say Bruce should have caught it. He's still not sure how Jason himself feels about the development; Jason has pushed so hard against labels all his life that no longer being part of the group that needs to push back must be strange. Tim hasn't told anyone except Bruce, with permission, just to confirm everything was fine with Ruby and to allow the labs a cleaner guess at her paternity and Bruce a more accurate file on Jason for medical treatment. Alfred also doesn't hold up Tim's stabbing Lucas in the face as an example of that volatility in omegas. 

Irony of ironies, they'd still had to forge Ruby's paternity test. Lucas's attorney had demanded they prove who was the father and Tim had decided to take the opportunity to indulge in his new found freedom rather than fight Lucas tooth and nail over it. 

So Alfred talks to Jason. He counsels him and Tim's kind of sure he answers all the bizarre questions that Jason is too ashamed to ask. Tim starts taking Ruby for walks as spring thaws begin in earnest. He bundles her up and tucks her in her pram (and it is always a pram when Alfred is around) and they shuffle to a nearby park. It's part of Tim's regimen to get back into shape, and he's reassured pretty frequently by doctor and mate alike that he's making good progress. Surprisingly, the paparazzi haven't caught on to where Tim likes to take Ruby and he's relieved for that as well. 

After the state of hyper-awareness brought on by the pregnancy and early postpartum release of hormones, Tim actually feels relieved to just be able to relax. He can lean against the bar of Ruby's stroller and watch her face as she stares up at the sky and trees. He can use it to support some of his weight, exercising his still slightly numb leg while still feeling like he's constructively doing something for his daughter. He's even sure that him paying attention to the old man sitting on a bench up ahead is just a left over rush of omega instinct telling him that no one should be near his baby except himself. At least until he starts to walk past. 

"Ah," Ra's says. "The young detective and child. At last."

Shit. Tim knows he can't take Ra's in hand-to-hand combat right now. He knows he has a cell phone and precious little else on him. His life with Ruby is so removed from his life as a vigilante and yet he should have expected this. He should have anticipated. 

"I'm not here to bring you any harm or put your daughter in any peril," Ra's adds calmly. He looks bizarre, sitting here like he's about to feed the ducks. Ra's is wearing slacks and an overcoat and it all seems so casual. Not a cape in sight. Then again, Tim himself is in sweatpants and one of Jason's shirts. He's also hobbling around and his only heated conversation this morning has been about how much he hates lochia and how he wishes it would end, instead of anything about justice or fighting international crime syndicates or anything. 

Still, Tim puts a hand over Ruby like that might protect her. Only her face and hands are visible around the thick blanket, but he's suddenly feeling foolish for turning down Damian's offer of a kevlar onesie for her. "What do you want?" He asks. Ra's is definitely looking at her, craning his head to be able to see her face. It's an oddly human gesture; Tim's had countless people do it already but none of them have been al Ghul. 

"I've had daughters as well, Timothy," Ra's replies which is not at all the answer Tim has been expecting. He's never really grasped before how strange it is to have an enemy of Red Robin also know him as Tim Drake. That a man Batman regularly fights against also is a part of his son's bloodline. Sometimes they don't give Bruce enough credit for not including them in the weirder parts of his life. "I heard the delivery was difficult."

Everyone in Gotham heard the delivery was difficult, so that's not much of a surprise. Ruby starts to whine at the lack of motion and he wheels the stroller back and forth to soothe her. "Yeah I don't think they are ever a cake walk." But Tim's gaze stays sharp on Ra's. "Still doesn't tell me why you're here." 

Ra's looks amused, if anything. "You solved the case, Detective," Ra's replies. "I thought it best not to goad you while you had the birth of your child to focus on." 

Oh, yes. Tim had almost forgotten that Ra's is partially the reason he ended up in a panicked, natural delivery on the floor of Wayne Manor. "Your people got out of control," Tim agrees. "You brought them to heal but you'd already made deals with Scarecrow."

"They've been dealt with," Ra's says dismissively. He's still watching Ruby. It makes Tim ill at ease. He knows Ra's was an alpha, once. He wonders if the Pit changed him any like it changed Jason. He doesn't rise to the bait of Ra's implying the assassins have been killed. "I wanted only to offer my congratulations to a worthy opponent."

"So you tracked me down to bother me to tell me you won't be bothering me?" Tim questions critically. But, he buys it. He doesn't think it's all that unusual for Ra's to ease into Gotham if he has business nearby, to want to see the changes in the Bat Clan for himself.

Ra's turns and starts to walk away. Tim tenses, if only because there's motion. At least there's not motion toward them. "I miss our little conversations, Young Detective," Ra's tells him. "Do heal quickly." 

Tim watches him walk away. He stands still until Ra's is out of sight, at last looking down to his daughter. He sighs and starts to walk again. "I think I'm going to wait until after your bedtime to tell your dad what happened," He informs her. "Since the other option is to just never tell him." Another glance down and he sees Ruby's face pursed in a frown. A frown, Tim realizes, that mirrors his own nearly identically. 

~*~*~

Evening, of course, finds Ruby snoozing in her crib after dozing off on Jason a half hour after he gave her a bottle. A little early, and Tim mentally calls her a traitor for leaving him to share the news with Jason before he's ready, but it's a peaceful sort of evening. 

They're still sorting through gifts and writing thank you notes. Tim writes the notes; the gifts are mostly addressed to him anyway. Jason keeps track of what was received from whom. There are too many pointless gifts from those wanting to pander favor with Bruce through his new granddaughter or Tim through his child and Tim is sure to make a note that they'll be donated to those in need. He doesn't need another silver rattle for Ruby and he's not sure what parent would, but his apartment doesn't have enough space for this junk. 

Blessedly, mixed in with the gifts that turn him to ice, are gifts that thaw him out. A sling from Bart guaranteed to hold the baby in place no matter how many flips the wearer turns. A zoo of green stuffed animals from Beast Boy. A little Wonder Woman headband from Cassie. Somewhere in the pile from superhero acquaintances he finds a little black t-shirt with a red Superman logo. It thrills him and destroys him at the same time and he's relieved it's a size too big; he has time to decide if he'll want it on Ruby. 

"Ra's al Ghul was in the park today," Tim tells Jason. "Does Douglas have one s at the end or two?" 

"One," Jason replies. "Did you just say what I think you said?"

The surge of hormones, the reek of scent, is almost overpowering to Tim's sensitive nose. Jason hasn't gotten that under control just yet and Tim's so used to Jason rarely smelling like anything that it is unbelievably strong. "He didn't want anything. To see her. Congratulate me."

Jason growls. Tim is a little worried and a little turned on and a little worried about that, too. He can't really expect a heat for at least three months after Ruby's birth but that doesn't mean his body isn't trying. "Seriously. He just wanted to tell me to get back to fighting shape so he can fuck with me again."

Jason isn't happy. The pencil he's using to connect names to gifts snaps in his fingers. But a moment later he takes a deep, shuddering breath. Obviously he knows Tim is fine and Ruby is fine. “And are you getting into fighting shape, babybird?”

The name makes Tim smile. It's not one Jason has used in a while. Not since they had a baby bird of their very own. “Trying to. I'm seeing the doctor again tomorrow. I think you should come with me.” The face Jason offers him makes him smile all over again, however serious the subject matter. “I know you like Dr. Grace,” Tim reasons. “And he did an entire program about sexual transition. I think he'd have good ideas about your hormone levels.”

Jason blinks at him. “Does it bother you? Me being whatever I am?”

“Of course not,” Tim hastens to assure him. And it doesn't matter. It truly, truly doesn't to Tim. “I just thought you might want some answers for yourself. You don't even have to go with me.”

“Ha,” Jason says. “Like I would let you out of it.”

~*~*~

It's how they end up at Dr. Grace's clinic with a lovely two hour appointment window blocked out just for them, barring any acts of God or nature deciding babies should come during these particular hours. Jason drives, head spinning and mind racing in tight, anxious little circles. Tim's been hurting and what if that turns out to be something beyond normal?

At least Ruby is healthy and, Jason is relieved to know, in the safe care of her Uncle Dick who is being supervised by Alfred so Jason doesn't have to worry about his daughter being accidentally set on fire or dressed in humiliating outfits. He'd already sent Dick some threatening text messages upon receiving a photo of Ruby's tiny toenails painted an affronting and startling Nightwing blue. And it's amazing to him, sometimes, how easily he's settled into loving her. How someone so tiny without the ability to talk or even hold her head up well is so incredible, can fill his senses with a joy previously matched only by a few people and one of whom gave birth to her. 

His daughter. And Jason knows a surprising peace when she's resting against his bare chest without judging the scars that litter his frame and without even a huff of breath for the smell of gunpowder on his hands. He always washes up before he holds her, but he still loves how soft her little body is against his, and how she's only happy he's come home and never is troubled by where he's been. 

She's part of the reason he's doing this. Tim is the other, sitting in the passenger seat with his hand on Jason's thigh. He owes it to them to see what he is. How he can improve and be happy. Alfred's lessons are helping but Alfred, sweet man that he is, isn't exactly an expert on such things. Still, he can see the shadow behind his eyes and the echoing one in Bruce's as they think they've failed him for not noticing the disconnect in mind and biology a lot sooner. 

It's their third trip to Dr. Grace's office since Ruby was born. After one more visit they'll be done going all together and Jason feels at least a little sorry. He's not certain why he should; they are certainly done with babies and everything has gone well.

He goes back for Tim's part of the appointment. Tim doesn't need him to hold his hand while the doctor examines how well the bone is healing but he almost wishes he did. As it is, Jason stares at a magazine that has some kind of smoked paprika chicken recipe in it, and tries his best to ignore what's going on. He's not quite as comfortable as he wants to be but at least it's progress. Even if Tim's slightly pained gasp still makes him shudder. 

Tim is healing. That's what is important. Tim still walks with a limp and Jason still catches a wince on his face when he moves wrong, but Tim will recover and in their line of work, and in their lives, he can't ask for much that is better than that. 

“Now,” Dr. Grace says when Tim is wiggling back into his pants. He's always felt it was important to let the patient put their clothes back on right after an intimate exam before they break into conversation. Jason appreciates it now more than ever. “Tim tells me you've recent discovered you're intersex? You were assigned omega after your heat but that is incorrect?”

Jason doesn't shut the magazine, but he does look up at him. Dr. Grace's eyes are kind and soft. Sympathetic. Something from years ago nags at his mind. Another doctor in worse circumstances who had wanted to help and hadn't known how. But maybe, just maybe, this doctor does. “I've never felt like an omega,” Jason begins slowly. He can see Tim smile encouragingly from behind the doctor, though the effect is somewhat lost by the way he hops on one foot to finish getting his pants on. Still, it eases Jason. Jason Todd might never have been an omega but Timothy Drake will always be some kind of dork. “It's always felt wrong and bad. It always made me sick to think about and when I was a kid I hoped I would just...never present. Not fully.” 

The exam table is still a little menacing. But beyond that is a photo on the wall of baby bunnies. On the wall behind him is one of ducks. He's had Ruby in here, has shown her pictures she can't understand at all while Tim took care of a test in another room. And he's never felt anything judging or dangerous from this place. “I presented late. Bad heat, nearly killed me. After that I started suppressants and I never wanted another.” And after that he'd died. That's when his medical history gets tricky. 

Dr. Grace is a good doctor, Jason knows. That doesn't mean he wants to talk about coming back from the dead with him. “I was in an accident and the rest is fuzzy. I had another weak heat but even that was too much. I didn't know what was wrong.”

The doctor places a hand gently on his knee. Jason is startled, but Dr. Grace only looks sympathetic and not in a trained way. “You felt wrong because you weren't an omega. Maybe omega biology, maybe you presented and functioned as one, but you weren't one.” And Jason can only nod mutely at that. It pretty much sums it up. 

Jason tells him everything. Or, at least, most things. The doctor spares a shocked look when Jason rattles off the drugs he's been on and for how long. He nods when Jason explains avoiding medical care all together. The words spill out of him like water long held back and he's almost relieved and exhausted when everything is out.“I need to look at your hormone levels and discuss more in depth with you. But do you want to know what I would suggest at this point?” Dr. Grace questions.

He's being given a choice in this, too. He sighs out in relief and manages a nod. Tim sinks into the seat beside him, leaning his face briefly against Jason's shoulder before sitting back up. Tim is smart. Tim probably has researched the hell out of this. But Tim doesn't speak. Tim hasn't spoken except when Jason had indicated he should for clarity. “I believe you should go off your suppressants,” The doctor tells him. “I doubt you will have a heat. Honestly I am in doubt your omega organs even work as they should any longer. But,” He interrupts Jason as Jason is about to protest. “If you show signs of a heat and you do not want it, call me any time and I will rush over with something to make it stop. Agreed?”

Jason nods. He can accept that. The doctor continues. “Give yourself perhaps half a year to even out and see where you are with no chemical assistance. At that point if you dislike it, we can discuss surgery or even a different cocktail of drugs until you feel like you are as you were meant to be.”

How he was meant to be. Jason likes the sound of that. His fingers find Tim's and he squeezes them. Tim picks up the cue. “That sounds like a plan,” He tells Dr. Grace with a brilliant smile that Jason absolutely adores him for. “We'll even bring Ruby back to visit if you want.” 

“I would enjoy that,” Dr. Grace replies cheerfully and he's treating them like any other patients. “Ruby's case is very memorable to me. Even if she hadn't been a Wayne heiress it would have been.” 

Tim groans, but Jason can tell he's amused. “She's not a Wayne heiress. Remember? Brothers?”

Dr. Grace smiles serenely. “Of course,” He agrees. “One of them sent me a good deal of money for the clinic and congratulated me for not allowing your own stupidity to kill you.”

~*~*~

Life settles back into a routine. Tim gets a glowing review at his final postpartum check though Dr. Grace gives him a positively stern lecture on ever repeating the experience. Tim assures him he's in no hurry for another baby and asks about more long term birth control options.

Tim has physical therapy for his leg and slowly regains feeling. Enough to begin working out again, and soon enough he's flipping over mats at the bat cave. Lucas Powers requests a second and even a third paternity test before trying to patch things up with Tim, which falls as flat as anyone would expect. He gets hit with another paternity suit when Ruby is three months old, which is how his wife finds out about his numerous affairs. She contacts Tim, so he knows his name came up, but he sends her a cordial wish for the best and a request she not contact him in any pending litigation. He's contented for that part of his life to be more than behind him.

Red Robin makes an appearance at last. Tim isn't to peak physical condition just yet but it's enough to be seen on the rooftops, and to break up a drug deal about to go bad. He comes home to where he left Jason and Ruby and, upon finding Ruby asleep, kisses Jason until they're both hard and desperate. They've been avoiding sex, since Tim is still a little sore and Jason is a little uncertain. Tim has at least got the birth control handled after his check up, with a method they assure him is as effective as surgical sterilization. He gets back on his suppressants as well, just to be sure. 

Jason, meanwhile, still hasn't gone for an exam but he has gone off his suppressants without immediate, catastrophic consequences. After he'd been assured that betas were not always the neutral peace keepers the stereotype led him to believe, he'd been better about accepting his new status. Comfortable with the fact that sometimes he swung to more alpha behavior and, much more rarely, he swung toward omega habits. 

Tonight was definitely alpha. Tim enjoys himself as Jason pins him down, covering his throat in bite marks. It's also a lot like the first night they decided to get together.

Jason is hard. Poised to enter him. “You sure?” He asks, lips against Tim's. They'd fumbled to this point a little. Tim had spent no fewer than two minutes reassuring Jason that without a condom was fine and that if he got pregnant again from this they better start playing the lottery. 

“More than,” Tim breathes back. He whimpers as Jason pushes inside him and it's what he's been dreaming about. They're far more subdued than they usually are, far more quiet with the awareness of a baby sleeping not far away. It's new, for them, but no less intense. Tim tingles with pleasure thinking there are going to be a million more of these moments. A million more first times for he and Jason together. 

Tim is still a little sore. Jason is a little too careful. They relearn one another in light touches and softer sounds. Everything is pleasure, everything is _right_ for once in his life. Tim tenses, making a noise of warning, and Jason simply growls in his ear, possessive and demanding. Tim comes around him in pulsing waves, biting into his lover's shoulder a moment later when he feels the wet spill of heat inside him. 

Everything is perfect. It won't last, it never does. But he never expected to find this when he was running away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a request? Comment? Something you want me to write into this story or another? Or a sequel? Feel free to leave it in a review comment or [here](https://strikeyourcolors.tumblr.com/ask). I do read and file them away and make a note of who sent them to me!


	23. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things for the new family wrap up in a neat little package...or do they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The last chapter of the fic! I'm a little sad to see it go, even if I wrote it. I imagine there might be more in this universe in the future but probably not immediately. Still, keep the requests and suggestions coming either on here or [here](https://strikeyourcolors.tumblr.com/ask) if you'd like! I keep track of them and even if it doesn't appear immediately sometimes prompts just eventually strike me for later. I love hearing from all of you and thank you so much for following along through all the chapters of this! The reviews are always both adorable and cherished and I'm so happy I could write something so long that people still enjoyed. I'll miss writing it but I'm sure I'll visit the universe again some day <3 especially for a really good idea! I swear I already have a sequel half-written in my head. And, I mean, if anyone wants to help out in brainstorming or plotting or even doing a collaboration...do let me know! 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter are smut. It's sandwiched right in the middle. After the first segment, pick up with "It's not to be" if you want to skip it.

Tim hates it when Jason is half a world away. Of course it's going to be a fact of their lives from now on. When one of them has cross-country adventures then the other is usually going to have to remain behind with the baby. Seeing as he still has trouble walking, sometimes, Tim decides that it really is better Jason take the first turn with Roy Harper. 

His leg has been bad tonight. A strike to his back has the limb on pins and needles and he'd decided to crash at the manor after patrol. Ruby had a nursery there for when Alfred babysat, but Tim had quickly taken to a baby box. Literally a box, big enough for Ruby until she at least starts sitting up. The interior of it is covered in pictures of owls and it's portable enough that Tim can move it from room to room depending on what he is doing.

He'd fallen asleep in the library, the box on the floor nearby with Ruby sleeping contentedly. It was the lack of sound that woke him, actually. He was used to hearing her breathing. 

Panic sets in first, before he remembers where he is. In the Manor. No alarms have gone off. He wasn't woken by a strange presence or by Ruby's cries so, chances are, someone he knows has retrieved her when she stirred.

He expects Alfred. He even expects Jason to have come home early after hearing Tim was hurt. He rubs his eyes as he limps to the kitchen because, honestly, at four in the morning there are very few places in the manor that are occupied.

But it's Bruce. Bruce with one of the bottles of formula Tim has pre-mixed, heating it up in a pan of water on the stove. Bruce who has Ruby's head pressed against his chest, letting her listen to his heartbeat so she won't whine quite as much while her bottle heats. Her eyes are open, the bright and ominous gray of a storm cloud. Perhaps unsettlingly close to her grandfather's. He handles her with such care that it almost makes Tim regret dropping Wayne from his name, and thus from hers. But Wayne isn't his legacy anymore; it's Damian's. 

Speaking of. He catches sight of the teenager perched on a nearby counter, studying the back of the formula can intensely. “Father, are you using a thermometer to check the temperature?”

“I've fed a baby before, Damian. You just test the formula on your wrist.” Bruce sounds fond. His lips brush Ruby's dark hair as he says it. “Give me some credit as a grandfather.”

Tim wants to take a picture, but he knows he can't get to his phone fast enough. “Do you really want to go with Grandfather? I was thinking something a little more humiliating,” Tim says lightly. He resists the urge to take the baby back from Bruce. He's doing a good job, after all. It's all omega instinct that makes him want to be permanently attached to his child.

“I'm honored to be anything to her,” Bruce answers back, those pale eyes serious on Tim's face. Damian swoops in and takes over warming the bottle, testing the temperature. “If you'll allow me to be,” He adds. There's an uncertainty there that spans all their fights. All the years apart and bickering. 

“You were great to me,” Tim replies softly. “I know you'll be great to her, too.” Bruce lifts a hand, wrapping it firmly around his shoulders and squeezing him tightly. Ruby protests with a little, uncoordinated flail. Tim's ribs cringe in sympathy, because he definitely recognizes that move from when she was still inside him. It hadn't felt great when she did it there.

“The bottle is at an optimal temperature,” Damian cuts in. He looks to Tim. “May I feed her?”

If they're turning over new leaves, he might as well start here. “Knock yourself out,” He tells Damian. He tries not to hover as he situates himself with baby and bottle at the kitchen table. Bruce still has an arm slung around him. 

Damian stares at Ruby. She stares back at him. She doesn't blink, only sucks at her bottle as she watches him. Damian isn't blinking either. 

“Are they...?” Tim questions, unable to believe that his brother is attempting to subdue his infant daughter this way. If Damian was actually trying to use any alpha tricks on her, he'd be angry, but it appears he's just...staring. 

“Having a staring contest? They do that often enough.” Bruce offers. “Ruby always wins. I think she's asserting her dominance.” 

Sure enough, eventually Damian blinks and yells. Still, his hand remains steady holding her bottle and she slurps away with a contented noise. “Again,” He demands at her. “Go.”

“Should I tell him that she spits up immediately after she eats?” Tim murmurs softly, a little fascinated by this ritual. 

Bruce smiles serenely. “If he never makes mistakes, how will he learn?”

Tim is definitely getting pictures of that.

~*~*~

Jason arrives home the next morning. Daylight is peaking in through the blinds when Tim hears the soft beep of the door alarm indicating someone entered the apartment with a key and that they have permission to be here. A little paranoid, probably, to have that alarm on top of the normal ones but he's not going to take chances with Ruby. The door and window to her room even have added security measures. 

Tim's only been dozing for about an hour himself. Between the back injury and not wanting to dump Ruby on family members for multiple nights in a row, he'd spent the evening at home running coordination efforts for his family. Sometimes he hates not being out there. Then his back twinges and his leg goes numb and Ruby looks up at him with those ghost-pale eyes that are the size and shape of his framed by Jason's ridiculously thick eyelashes and he can't hate any time he spends with her any longer. He's tried to consider what they're going to do when she's old enough to understand that her parents disappear, or that not every grandparent has a high-tech cave beneath their mansion (or a mansion at all). It's too far off for him to have a grasp, yet, but he does know that at least one of them needs to retire when she's old enough to form traumatic memories. He's not leaving another orphan in this world who remembers her parents just enough to mourn them. He knows what it's done to him and he was older than Bruce or Dick when he lost his mom and even older than that when he lost his dad. Ruby's been to visit them, once, no matter how stupid Tim knows it is to sit his baby on a grave and talk. Whatever soul, whatever energy his parents had, its gone now and he hopes it has moved on into something else. When Tim realizes that Ruby's fingers are going to be the same shape as his mother's, with the same long nail beds, it's somehow reassuring to him. 

"Look what parenthood did to you," Jason croons to him upon realizing he's awake. Jason strips down from jacket and shirt and jeans, tossing each item to the side with a heavy thud. "My good little omega in bed before the sun comes up."

"Was asleep too before you broke in, asshole," Tim replies sleepily. He sits up with intent to turn around and burrow back down into the blankets. Ruby getting older means longer between feedings, and she hates mornings as much as he does. But as he moves he catches a scent. Rare enough that Jason ever has one but... "Holy crap you stink."

Jason pauses, standing in his boxer briefs. He sniffs noisily. Too noisily, because Tim also knows Jason has a good sense of smell. "Huh. Guess I do. I thought it was Roy. What does it smell like?"

Tim's nose itches with the scent. He's not sure if he wants to gag or moan as Jason leans forward over him, crawling onto the bed to straddle him. Jason's too big to be graceful. He's never moved like an omega that Tim remembers. This is all alpha as he lets Tim get his knees underneath him, folding him into a ball and covering him. "You smell like an alpha," Tim answers, beginning to suspect. "And you're probably in a rut." Which makes him pause, turning as well as he can under Jason's bulk and grinning like a madman at him. "Oh no," He squeals. "Is this your first? Do I need to get a book about your changing hormones? Call Bruce? Have Dick give you that awkward sexual education lecture about pheremones and not rubbing up against light posts?"

Jason groans. It sounds agonized. "Don't bring them up." But he doesn't sound angry at Tim's teasing, which is a vast improvement because Tim's teased him about a heat exactly once and nearly gotten his head ripped off for it. They've been warned to ride out Jason's hormones for probably a year, and that he'll swing toward alpha for a bit after a literal lifetime on suppressants. Tim's also reassured enough that this will be mild and quick and they can even ignore it. 

He doesn't want to ignore it. Judging by the way Jason is pawing the covers down, he doesn't want to ignore it either. Jason presses his face to Tim's neck and simply _breathes_ and it's the single most erotic thing Tim has experienced in recent memory. He shifts under him, a master by now at this. "You're heavy," He protests, but he tilts his head to expose more of his neck. 

"Gotta be heavy to keep the unfortunate omega down," Jason tells him. He's only teasing but Tim still shivers underneath him. Jason's teeth scrape along his neck, on the side over his pulse and then Jason's fingers brush hair from the nape of his neck to bite along the ridges of his spine. "You're too thin again. Going to have to feed you up." 

"Not an alpha thing to say," Tim reminds him absently, but he appreciates it. Jason's lack of suppressants and coming out as a beta hasn't changed much. He's experienced being an omega. It makes him better when he's having alpha urges, in Tim's humble opinion. "Not supposed to care about feeding me." 

"How will you have more babies for me if you're a scarecrow?" Jason asks. He stiffens on top of Tim and Tim tries to look at his expression again. "Was that creepy? I think that was creepy. My mouth just ran away with me."

Tim snorts and grinds up, ignoring the dumb way he has to arch his back and lift his ass. Jason's hormone to brain to mouth filter was limited before and now it's like he's back to being a teenager. Tim loves it; it makes Jason say and do things that are almost as dorky as the things Tim does on a regular basis without the excuse of hormone shifts. "We have a couple of hours before the actual baby this scarecrow made wakes up. Want to do something with that time?"

Obviously, Jason does. He has Tim nearly standing on his head as he strips them both down and Tim never thought being fucked curled up as he with anyone holding him down would be as hot as it is. He's overcome by the feel of Jason rubbing against him. There's no barrier between them, nothing physically or emotionally, and Tim finds it mindblowing when Jason slides inside him. At this angle his cock reaches all the best nerves and feels absolutely huge.

Despite the apparent rut, it's a lazy fuck. Jason mouths his neck and his shoulders and Tim scratches at him and pulls his hair as they grind and roll together. Jason allows him to balance on his knees, gripping his hips almost hard enough to bruise and yanking him back. Tim goes willingly, bracing one hand on the headboard as Jason moves him like a doll. It's fast and frantic, rougher than they've dared since...well, ever if Tim is honest. 

"So perfect for me," Jason pants against his ear. "So good. So _tight_ , Timmy. Milking me like you were made to do it." And Tim purrs and keens and pushes against him to get more of Jason in him. He wants to hear more of those dirty words, wants to make Jason lose his mind in a hormonal rush he's previously denied himself. 

There's no knot, when Jason finally comes. Tim can feel his body aching for it, clenching around Jason to hold him there. But even that urge fades as Jason pulls him back so he's sitting on his lap, reaching around Tim to touch him and it's not long before he's peaking too. 

They stay in a sweaty, exhausted mess for a few minutes. Jason is rubbing his face back and forth over Tim's back and Tim's torn between laughing and being grossed out. "You still stink," Tim comments. "Go take a shower and rub another one out. I'm going to get a little more sleep." 

Jason gives him a wet, slightly messy kiss. "Get more than a little. I'll grab Ruby when she wakes up," He responds and disappears into the bathroom. Tim hums contentedly and settles down; he's going to have to shower and change the sheets later anyway so he's looking forward to maybe getting a little nap in before he has to officially wake up. 

It's not to be. An alarm on his phone goes off and Tim frowns, reaching to snatch it from the nearby table and even grabbing his glasses so he can peer at the screen more intently. He has alarms set for precious few things and getting up at a certain time is certainly not one of them. It's an alert for a meta entering Gotham. A familiar one, but Tim can't look up the information before he hears the security system for the apartment go off. A half second longer and he realizes it's the pitch for Ruby's window. 

He's pretty sure he flies into her nursery, half tangled in a sheet. Jason is a moment behind him in a towel, and it's only years of practice in crisis situations that keep either of them from tripping as they tumble into her room. 

Ruby isn't crying. Tim notices first that she's still asleep in her crib. He notices next that the window is open and, standing right near it like he didn't just break in, is Superboy. Alive. Casual. Like Tim's costume and his daughter's name weren't to honor his death. 

"Kon," Tim breathes. He sees Jason moving in front of Ruby, uncertain of what is happening. He still has shampoo in his hair. 

"Hey," Kon says with a grin and a hand rubbing at the back of his head as he looks embarrassed. "So I noticed that your window is electrified now...and also that this isn't a guest room any more..." 

"Yeah," Tim replies, numb and almost dizzy. He approaches Kon, ignoring the way Jason stiffens. It's just Kon though. No hint of another presence, no cyborg leaping out of his skin. "You're alive." He hugs him then. Heedless of the sheet around him, of his lover or his daughter, he hugs his best friend who is alive again. 

"About that," Kon tells him with a laugh as his arms come around Tim in return. "I was a thousand years in the future for a while and boy do I have some stories for you." His gaze strays over to the crib, to a tiny sleeping baby with a mop of dark hair and a scarred up man in a towel guarding her. "But apparently so do you." 

Tim is floundering a little. His brain isn't functioning on too little sleep, too much sex, and having someone come back from the dead. "So many," He replies and tries not to dissolve into hysterical laughter. "Go into the kitchen. Let me put some pants on." 

Kon, bless him, nods and slinks out of the room without getting too close to Jason or even casting more than a curious look at Ruby. Jason looks expectantly at Tim, who is grinning like an idiot. "He's alive," He says simply. 

"Yeah, got that babybird," Jason replies. He moves to the window to reset the alarms. "Just now finding out?"

"The rumors are starting to make sense," Tim agrees. There's a sense of everything clicking into place in his mind and oh does he enjoy it. "I'm going to...put on some clothes and talk to him." 

Jason has a carrying basket out, one Ruby is probably pushing too heavy for by now. Still, he scoops their sleeping daughter into it with barely a grumble from her. "I'm going to finish my shower and she's going to stay with me," He answers in a tone that suggests Tim better not try to prevent him from dragging their daughter into the bathroom so Jason can protect her. "Yell if you need help, yeah?"

Tim's face hurts from smiling so much. "I won't need help," He tells Jason and brushes a kiss against his lips as they all head back into the bathroom. He can hear Kon making coffee in the kitchen. "Today is going to be a wonderful day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! I wanted to bring in a piece of the original (very original) draft in which Kon was the father of the baby and he came back from the dead halfway through. He's being stuck in at the end, but I like the little throwback to everything this fic could have been and I enjoy seeing how it changed. Certainly a far cry from Tim gets pregnant, Kon dies, Jason steps in, Kon isn't really dead, and chaos ensues! Some parts surprised even me, like how much of a role Jason ended up taking with his issues, but I like to think at the heart of it the basic premise stayed the same.
> 
> Thanks again, everyone! I'm so honored you stuck with me for so long and I hope to see you all in the comments section again soon.


End file.
